Plot Bunnies
by stealacandy
Summary: A collection of plot bunnies, Omakes, odd ideas that pop into my head, and other drabble.
1. Exodus, Prologue

**Plot Bunnies**

**1. The Exodus**

**Disclaimer**: I did not write the bible - God wrote the book of Exodus, and loads of priests have been making money off it for ages. JKR wrote Harry Potter, and to us poor fans her word is gospel when partaining to the magic system she created (That is why, BJH), but unlike god's priests, we, the poor aposteles spreading the word of Harry Potter in the world (...wide web) are prohibited from making a profit. So let's all join the Black Friars and preach, preach, preach!

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**A/N**: After a heated discussion of how Star-Trek (the original show) adheres to scientific truth and findings, and how Klingons can't be the product of evolution, I was shut up by majority rule, told that Klingons really didn't evolve, they were created (though no one offered details, and I didn't care enough to look for explanaition) and reffered to a Discovery channel movie called "Alien Planet". That was a month ago. I finally got around to watch it, and this is what I came up with; First, I wrote a reply to Chris Hill, who writes HP/JLA/BtVS crossovers on this site and was the one who mentioned Darwin IV (where "Alien" takes place) in the first place, then I wrote a story - or the beggining of one, at least. Then I decided to post it here, as the first part in an "Odd Idea" like several writers have been doing lately, as I have quite a few of those, I just have to find them on my hard drive if I saved a copy, or on various forums I post in.

So here is the first Plot Bunny in this session, but first, the letter to Chris: (can't post it alone, it's against ff-net policy, damn them to hell!)

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Chris, I saw that _Alien Planet _show you told me about - you've got to be kidding me! About 12 different macro life forms in the entire eco-system? One of a kind, two at most? That's like having hyenas, but no jackals, dogs, wolves, etc. And having leopards, but no cheetahs, panthers, tigers, lions or cats. And rats, but no mice, hamsters, opossums, rabbits, kangaroos, moles, etc. And having snowy owls, but no barn owls, screech owls, or any other owl. Any other bird, for that matter. Evolution just doesn't work that way. Unless there was some sort of catastrophe, and only these few species survived - and I would still expect more. Many more. Even If it was a recent catastrophe. Now I know they had some scientists working with them, but they had to work within the limits of the original book, so all they commented was about the possibility that some life form somewhere could possibly take that shape, they didn't comment about it's likelihood and they said nothing about it's relation to other life forms that should have common grounds and common origins with it.

Also, how do they have air? No oceans, and the few forests are small, rare and far between, and the trees don't have any leaves! How do they have oxygen?

And what's with the light shows? On herd animals? Are they _trying _to attract predators? Most of them do not rely on sonar, they rely on their eyes! How on earth (or Darwin IV) did their specie survived?

What I did love was that intelligent being. It, and to a lesser extent that weird bird-thing that looks like a B2 bomer plane, basically move around by farting! I found that hilarious, if somewhat in bad taste.

Anyway that got me thinking…

Recently, I read that the British lead a European project in an effort to land a probe on Mars. I think they launched their spacecraft in 2003 or perhaps 4. So -

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Prologue**

(music, pyrotechnic effects, cool animation…)

After Harry defeated Voldemort, the question arouse what to do with his followers, sympathizers, supporters, the corrupted ministry officials who did his bidding, took his money or played to his hand…

One Muggleborn witch (Hermione, anyone?) came up with the answer, and a brilliant plan it was.

(trumpets sound in the background)

If what they want is a world without muggles, mudbloods, half-bloods, blood-traitors, lowly half-breeds, sentient magical beings, or any other life-form they consider beneath them, well, why not give them just that?

Three years of debate, followed by a year of preparation, and all the Death Eaters, their supporters, their families too, and a few fools who volunteered to join thinking it was a good deal, were all packed and ready to go. Stun, petrified, put to magical sleep, confined in a bubble head charm, they were all locked inside a huge metallic container, then the whole thing was shrunk and smuggled onto the muggle Mars landing craft. It was set so the spells would deactivate when, and only when, the craft would reach it's target, then the ground vehicle would be taken over and deliver the container, on it's occupants, to a creek that was deemed habitable for human dwellings, or could be rendered so, with muggle technology, or, in that case, with magic.

The Death Eaters were allowed to take their belongings with them, for all the good it would do them - the wonders of magical space, volume and weight manipulation rendered the muggle calculations of space loads and propulsion mute. But they also received some useful magic stuff, like a supply of healing potions to last them for a while, as well as some potion ingredients and brewing equipment. They got some tools, but more importantly they got tomes of knowledge, compiled by the team of researchers lead by Hermione Granger herself, who came up with the idea in the first place. They included magic to seal the creek chosen for their dwelling and make it air-tight, to create a water stream going from one end of the creek to another, then turning around and going back - with magic, of course - and even magical means to use that to create energy, if they were so inclined. They had tomes on agricultural magics, to help them terraform their habitat, and perhaps even venture out at a later time. They had books on mass manipulation, space, weight and volume, they had spells for stone work - so they could carve themselves living spaces in the stone walls surrounding their creek. They had metallurgy spells and other metal-works to use what metals they brought along and any metal they might mine on location - again, they were provided with the necessary spells for that. They were equipped with anything that would make their lives bearable, easy and secure.

They had a full library about transfiguration and conjuration, which ms. Granger compiled after an extensive research through books seized from Death-Eater's libraries (which she then forgot to return…). Unlike muggles, who hatched similar plans, for the far future, and had to bring along just anything they needed for the first steps of settling the planet, the wizards and witches on Mars could just wave their wands and create what they wanted, from scratch.

If they weren't so inclined, well, they were given livestock. Cattle for milk, sheep for wool, pigs for meat, rabbits for stew - and fur - even dogs for amusement and companionship. They got many fish in an aquarium so they could populate the stream they would create, and later on go fishing - at leisure, or for food. They had an assortment of plants, magical and mundane, to refresh their breathing air, to provide them with food, and other raw-material, and for aesthetic purposes. They had seeds for more for later use, when they would venture out and start terraforming their environment. They had grain and seeds for wheat, barley and oats, as well as cuttings for many fruit trees.

They were given books of muggle instructions of how to take care of these animals. Supplemented with spells to make the task easier.

They didn't bring any magical creatures, in spite of the planning team's insistence, deeming them unworthy and not wanting their "contaminating presence" along for the ride. A couple of wizards wanted to bring a few veela, but no veela wanted to come. Some wanted to bring house-elves, but ms. Granger was adamant about that - if the so called Pure-Bloods want isolation, they should be persistent - a have it all, or nothing situation.

In order to educate the children and teach them responsibility, it was suggested they'd be given pets. After some debate it was decided to provide the expedition with white ferrets. It raised a few eyes, but only the Quibbler really took notice of that, and nobody really takes notice of the Quibbler.

In enthusiasm over the proposed plan, the Quidditch Leauge owners, along with the Ministry of Magic's own Sports and Games department, joined together to purchase the Chudley Canons Quiditch team and send it with the departing Pure-Bloods. Couldn't have let them be board, the courageous souls, there can't be much to do on a foreign planet, and wizards without Quidditch are like a fish without a bicycle.

Harry Potter, the famous Playboy-Who-Likes-to-Live (-wild) and owner of the Nimbus broom company, has donated 77 Nimbus 2001 brooms for the expedition, the last of the company's stock, all that was left after their owner had cancelled the line for some unexplainable reason. He also sent flowers (a rosary?) and a note to one Draco Malfoy. And a snitch.

The great thing about it all was that Lucius Malfoy, despite his misgivings about the muggle transportation, has volunteered to finance the whole thing out of his own pocket. Of course, the fact that his accounts were frozen till a time the last wizard currently alive was dead, and that he had no chance to ever access them otherwise, might have had something to do with that. His only demand was that one Ronald Weazley, the blood-traitor, would be refused passage. Weazley was greatly disappointed, but ms. Granger used her immense brain-power to convince him he is better off on Earth.

The other great thing about it was, both Cornelius Fudge and Dolores Umbridge, in their Azkaban cells, asked to join the journey and the Pure-Blood emigration.

Thus, the Exodus began.

**Chapter 1: Exodus**

…

…

…

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Okay, where is this going? The Death-Eaters land on Mars, get to their creek, get enlarged and wake up. Now they have to get out from the comforts of their container, such as they may consider them, and onto the harsh face of the planet, and make it habitable. They don't have anyone but themselves to do the work for them. That is what they wanted, and you know the saying - be careful with what you wish - you just might get it!

Now they have a polarized struggle. On one hand, with no slave labour, they have to adapt, work together, work at all, in order to survive. On the other, it is their nature to go around, lording over muggleborns and half-bloods, enslaving other races, torturing muggles for fun. Committing crimes at leisure - rapine, arson, what ever they want. Now they live in a small community in which rely on each other for it's, and theirs, survival. Can they overcome their habits and upbringing and work together to their betterment, or would it be a wolf-eat-wolf situation, where everybody tries to be on top at the expense of the rest of them, so he could rule and live in relative luxuries and comfort while the others labour, slave around to support him?

What would Fudge do? Is he up to establishing a real, functioning government, after so many years at the head of another, dysfunction one, which he lead to ruin? Would people try to bribe him? Or would they throw him off a cliff, with no oxygen supply?

Who's left? Snape? They didn't want him - too ugly, a blot on the landscape, all that - and he _is_, after all, merely a half-blood. So he was left on Earth to be tormented by his vanquishers. So Harry and Co. won't get boared without enemies to taunt, rest assured.

What's next?

How does the magical community react to that?

Perhaps the goblins would rebel at having their wealthiest clients pull their accounts? As a settlement, they would be allowed to sneak some of their numbers onto the American mission to Mars and try to build a bank there. How would the "natives" react to that?

If any of them were still alive, that is… Maybe their all dead, and so the goblins make a living out of it, burrowing deep into the planet's soil and rocks? Sending encouraging messages to their kin on Earth, an entire racial immigration soon follows?

Or maybe the Death Eaters kick them off the planet, the goblins rebel again, the ministry tells them there's nothing they can do, and the goblins build an inter-galactic battle cruise and start an expedition to Mars with genocide in mind? Some Death Eaters read science fiction and, using magic, make it true and respond in kind, starting the first interstellar space war? Or perhaps they read Asimove and create robots instead, spread out in the galaxy and put a blockade on Earth? The possibilities are numerous, each more preposterous then the other - I'm sure Chris would just love it!

What else? The house-elves, bereft of their owners and masters, follow Dobby and Winky's example and go to Dumbledore for employment. The old man finally loses the last remnants of his sanity and moves to the north pole for a life of solitude (as much as you can call being surrounded by hundreds of elves solitary) and spend the rest of his unnaturally long life (the guy created a horcrux of his own, that thing with Snape was a flux) making candy, and, not liking brooms too much, enchanting the local animals (reindeer?) to fly. Installs the Floo, so he could chat with some old timers like him about the good old days, plays a bit with his time-turner, Gets board, decides to be a Catholic, but with his status he should be a cardinal at least (the pope position is already occupied, and he doesn't want to remove the poor soul from his position just to give him something to do) so he declares himself first Cardinal of the Arctic, dons on red. The rest, as they say, is hysteria…

I wonder if the werewolves would emigrate too, or perhaps kicked off the planet by the wizards? Perhaps send them all to the moon?

Well, that's it, that's all I have. The rest is up to you.

stealacandy

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**P.S.**: I may come back to this some day, but that is a remote possibility. This is why this particular plot-bunny is up for adoption, just tell me beforehand and give me the credit and this story is yours.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Review replys:**

Arthur Hansen (arthurh3535) wrote: "While I don't mind the idea... I think it would be a much cooler idea with Harry and all the 'mud-bloods and half-bloods' being forced into exile. Sort of a dystopian exile where they try to build a new world as the old world (both Muggle and Wizarding) slowly self-destruct due to the exile. But Harry and the gang would be much, much more approachable to write a story on rather than Malfoy and all his blood supremicists. ... Arthur"

slickrcbd answered that for me: "Yes, but what about all the new mudbloods born every year? Plus, how would you stop more half-bloods from being produced like Nymphadora Tonks? Andromeda's family clearly disapproved of the match, but she had a kid with a mudblood anyway. It makes more sense to give the isolationists their own colony away from muggles where they won't have to worry about those of inferior blood trying to mix it up with them. While I see why you say that, I don't see how you're going to address those issues without resorting to killing babies. Better to put those who want to have nothing to do with muggles in their own place than the mixed blood people."

- I couldn't agree more. - stealacandy

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ookii Mamoru (ookiimamoru) wrote: "Sort of reminds of a chapter in Douglas Adams's book "Restaurant at the end of the Universe" in the "Hitchhikers' Guide" series... or was it "So long and thank you for all the fish" Never could keep them straight. ... OM"

- Which one is that? Oookii? Oh! don't tell me - you mean the one when they kicked all the phone hygene technitians off their planet and sent them to populate the Earth, then died from a phone-transmitted diesease?  
No, I was aiming at something else entirely, and planed on a serious fic, not a humour one, for a change, which is why I put it for adoption in the first place, as I usually write what could probably described as crackfics. That, and I don't have time...  
The settlers in hitchhiker were supposed to fail and die, they survived by mere chance and hard darwinism - only the strongest survived, the rest probably died of hunger while laying in inflatble beds floating in a swimming pool and serving margaritas.  
The settlers in my story are intended to live and prosper thriough hard work, a life which would put their prior beliefs to question,  
perhaps.  
Still, it is up for adoption, make what you will out of it.

- stealacandy

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

davidiusbrown wrote: "Death Eaters on Mars! It's a little known fact that flobberworms, when exposed to Martian air and soil, become really, really big. ... David Brown ... And for the non-subtle, by big, I mean Dune sandworm big."

- Thanks for sharing, I didn't know that. I wonder if Hermione knew when she came up with her plan. Still, I expect the only flubberworms the DEs carried them were dead and dried, in their potion supply kits. BTW, Dune sandworm give spice, and space navigators get high on it. Flobberworm give spittle, or mucose. Do you think someone can get high on that? Anyway, "If you have a spitting problem, it is good to be prepared in advance to wipe the spittle away. That's why Towlie says, when going to Mars, don't forget to bring your own towel!". Towlie is very nice and, like yourself, likes to share, which is why he would like to know if "you wanna get high?" I told him you already are. - stealacandy

philh1985 wrote: "Maybe they go to Saturn and turn into Sandsharks (ala Beutelguise)?? ... Phil"

- The only thing I remember from that movie is someone raising from a grave, so I have no idea what you're talking about. But if they can find a way to raise the dead, maybe they can raise Voldemort, that would solve their leadership problems. - stealacandy

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chriss Hill (chrishillnow wrote: "For the idea, someone else can do it. (s.a.c. puots prettily) As for the show, you missed what was being said. In the months of the mission, they only explored around 400 square kilometres of surface area between the start of the mission, and the call to trace the last position of a missing probe. Given that, I am surprised they could find so MANY species. ... Chris"

- Really, just looking through 40 square feet in the boulivard, (avenue? a street with trees on both sides, covering it, anyway) I live in I can find over twice as many animals without trouble. 400 square feet of wilderness, without man driving all the animals away? even in England, which is an island and was cut off the continent and thus have precious few animal life (in comparison to, say, France), you would find hundres! and even more plants!

I don't know, but is seems mightily easy to surprise you... - stealacandy

brian892671 would like to add that: "England's a very weird example, why not Australia, which is the typical island cut off from surrounding land example, it's also very, very biodiverse. England (Britain actually) has only been an island since the last Ice Age which is no time at all for animals and is actually one of the most varied ecosystems around, we have living trees which are several centuries old standing in forests which date back thousands of years. The real problem with biodiversity is human activity, farming and hunting is the reason that most native species in Britain which have become extinct have. We used to have wolves, beaver etc but they are now gone.  
And now the punchline... Back to your original point, you're wondering why there's only a few species of animals that exist in an environment without -air-? Personally I'm impressed they're there at all. Potentially it's a pseudoscience-documentary-for-entertainment on the Discovery channel (pretty mainstream) and wasn't going for biological fact?"

- Australia is a good example, but so is Britain. When it was covered in ice it had little animal life on it, and it was very different (reindeer, polar bears, wolly mamoths, some kind of white bird that can still be found in Snodonia, some white furry rabbits and white seals, which are still visiting the coast isles, but seem out of place, being white and everything.), and it had virtually no plant life. (there was a mile of ice between the soil and the surface). So nearly all the animals that inhabit Britain today, as well as those extinct by the intervention of men, migrated to Britain in te short period after the Ice was gone and before the sea came back and the British Isles were cut off. That is why Britain has a relatively low diversity of land-based animals. Ireland has even less. And still, on both, you can't go anywhere without encountering as many animals as are on Darwin IV, and more, with out going out of your way to find them,

And to the punchline. I didn't say there wasn't air - there was air, I was wondering where did it come from. Even if there wasn't, if one animal of a kind evolved to live in such condition, you'd expect there to be others in the family. i.e. on Earth there are homosapiens sapiens, whereas homohabilis and homoerectus are extinct, as are the boisei, the neanderthals, the australopitecus, whatever they call pitecantropus today (probably be something else tommorow). But chimpanzees, orang-utangs, gorrilas are still in existance and abundance. As are baboons, lamours and so on... So yes, on a planet without air that has somehow managed to pruduce a dozen kinds of animals and plants, I _would_ expect to see many more.  
What I want to know is if the "scientists" talking on the show about the "discoveries' they "made" on Darwin IV are real scientists speculating on what might one day be found and wheather what's going on in the story is plausible, or are they just actors playing the future scientists who sent the mission to Darwin IV, and are just reading a script. The movie wasn't clear about that.

Pseudoscience-documentary-for-entertainment, not going for biological fact? I know that, you know that, Chriss Hill doesn't.  
He tried to prove that some of the more outrageous ideas of Star Trek are science fact rather then science fiction by pointing me towards the movie, saying: "here! real scientists said so!". So I say, "you got to be kidding!"

- stealacandy

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


	2. Chemical & Going Nuclear

Not much of a plot, and not a bunny in sight, I would like to present:

**Dark Wizards and Chemical Warfare - an Odd Idea **

By stealacandy

**Disclaimer**:

**A/N.**: I'm not going to put here everything I ever wrote, it's just I particularly liked this one, and I'm currently considering making a fic out of it. As you can see, this is not so much as a starter fic (as in several scenes combined to jump start a fic) but a true plot bunny, only the ideas present, and needs a lot of work - writing, refining, the whole nine yards.

On june 24, Warren (in CaerAzkaban Yahoo! group) wrote the following:

"This reminds me of a few ideas in regards to locales for a story I was considering. If I recall correctly Hogwarts appears to Muggles as a crumbling ruin with signs warning of danger and keep away. What's to say some of the larger Wizarding estates or privately owned islands do not have similiar features. For instance I recall that during the Second World War , the UK used a few small islands off Scotland to test biological weapons such as Anthrax. Of course due to this, those islands are still off limits to visitors.  
What's to say that Wizards haven't faked records to indicate that some pureblood's home is also such a location. To disguise the comings and goings from the island a few glamours and what not."

To which I replied with:

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Dark Wizards and Chemical Warfare - an Odd Idea **

That's brilliant! But I have a better idea:

Voldemort builds his Lair of Evil on one of the many islands off the coast of Britain - perhaps, shel we say, for ocultish reasons, on the Isle of Anglesy, off the Welsh coastline, which was the druids center of power. Or perhaps he just liked to walk the gardens. (who knows, maybe Voldemort has a romantic / poetic side?)

Then he put it under muggle repealing charms, notice-me-nots and what-not, so the few muggles that lived there and worked in the turism industry eventually left for mainland Britain. THen Harry defeated him as a baby, but the charms held, just like the curse on the Hogwarts DADA teaching position held. But he only placed the charms on the contents of the island, not on the fuondationa of the island itself.

Because of that, during the years, the muggles have forgotten what was on the island and what was it's significance, but you can't hide a whole island, unless you actually put it under the fidelius, which wouldn't have worked for Voldemort, because then the uggles would have remembered what was on the island, just not where it is, just like everyone remembered who the Potters were, just not where they were situated, and it would alert the muggles.

Anyway, years later, he does that "blood of the enemy" thing and comes back to life, goes back to his old Lair of Evil withall his followers. He rages war on the magical world, war on the muggles, &etc., buisness as usual.

Then, the muggles go to war again, say in Iraq, and, being bothered by the possibility of encountering chemical and/or biological weapons, they train their armed forces to fight in a contaminated area. So they decide to pick up an island and spray it with what ever they got, and make it a training zone. the problem is, the uninhabbited islands are to small for what they need, and all the bigger islands are inhabited. Then they find one Island that is big enough, and for all _they_ know, for some obscure reason hasn't been inhabbited for a couple of decades - the Isle of Anglesy. So they choose Anglesy and cover it with deadly stuff - and poof! go all the Death Eaters.

Poor Voldemort - what's a Dark Lord to do when he has no followers?

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

To this, Warren had to say: "Your's is a truly evil mind. The Power he knows not is this evil muggle "potion". LOL".

Encouraged, I continued writing:

**Dark Wizards and Chemical Warfare - an Odd Idea - continue: Going Nuclear**

The plot thickens:

Having no living servants left, Voldemort turns to ressurect his dead followers as subservient inferi.

He does'n take into account that they are all carrying all sorts of bacteria and germs and stuff. So wen he ressurects them, the germs combine with the redisdentual magic of the druids, who are still looking for revenge, and so the inferi turn up with a mind of their own, and a single purpuse. Now the only living (if you can call the post ressurection Voldemort that) human around is voldemort so they all try to eat him, and so he uses every bit of magic he can master to protect himself, and if that means taking some magic juice from the wards he erected around the island, then so be it. He manages to shield himself, but that's all he can do and he doesn't have any magic left to apparate away, which he comes to regret he didn't do immediately.

Round about this time, the British military forces arive at the island for their planned excersize, and are shocked to find the island infastated with the dead. Enter: Dawn of the Dead.

A fight ensues, the dead are already dead, you can't kill them again, so there isn't much the soldiers can do and eventually the muggles (those who weren't turned by the dead) pull off. They noticed that the 'zombies', as they dubbed them, were somewhat volnurable to fire, but their granades were more 'explode and blow them up' by causing shock damage type then 'burn them straight to hell' type, so they figure what to do and decide to burn the island - but since the charms on it were removed, they remembered it's historical importance, and they don't want to ruin the ruins that scatter it, so they decide against Naplam.

Instead, they nuke the place, and poof! go the dead, and along with them - not that anyone will notice - poof! go Voldemort.

Poor poor Voldemort - what's a dark lord to do when he's vaporised into a cloud of radioactive particles?

I can see a sequal coming, too. the particles of Voldemort, the inferi, the dead druids and a bunch of wolly mamoths left there from the Ice Age are mixed with the embient magic of the place ang goin together, "Hot Shots 2" style (the scene that parodies "Terminator 2", where Sadam Hussein broken, frozen parts melt and join together, only to mix with his puddel's broken, frozen parts as well) and we get a giant monkey. Enter: King-Kong! (Or is it Vild-Vold? Mirt-Mort? Weird-Warts?)

Poor Fudge - what's an incompetent political leader to do when thretend by a 50-feet tall enrage super-monkey?

Or you could do the Radioactive Man thing instead...

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

For this, I got some grief, from izazel2003:

"Ohh thats rich, they nuked the island because napalm would cause too much damage to the historical sites.

Thatd be like if you had a wart on your hand and decided itd be better to cut the entire arm off because freezing the wart off would leave a small scarr."

Not one to be deterred, go down with out a fight, be discouraged, etc. I replied, as I already forsee nsuch objections:

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Going Nuclear - everyone's a critic

As I said before, they are English, they don't make sense.

sides, if the don't set the A-bomb on the site itself, but nearby? it'll still burn every inferi on the island, but the ruins would be left relatively... in ruin. I saw photage of Hiroshima after the bomb, and they had ruins in better shape then the ruins in Angelsy are, and they used a big bomb, the English here will use a small tactical device. If they used Naplam, on the other hand, they would have to be precise, and on an island infastation of dead, they would have to cover the entire island with Naplam, and being so sticky, it would remain there and burn for hours, where as a small a-bomb wouldn't leave any fuel to burn, so she fires will quickly die.

As for radiation? big deal, so they'll have to wait 35 years before they can come back - they would have to wait longer for the remnents of the biological weapons to die, and a nuclear blast would cook the germs instead, so they are acctually saving time. (In "The Hunt For Red October" there was a poorly educated, conscripted, Tatar cook on a Soviet ship who decided to clean his dishes with steam from a live line... (turns out it was a real event... thank you Ed Becerra) I read Asimov's Foundation again this week, and they were selling things like nuclear-powered butter-  
knives (?????) and atomic dish-washers, so I was reminded of that scene)

Besides, for two decades they didn't visit the island, what's another three? And the ruins have been there since the Romans killed all the Druids around 60AD, it's not as if they are going anywhere.

You see, I thought it all out! Also, I may live in a big city, am used to the polution and everything, but unlike some, I don't like the smell of Naplam in the morning.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**A/N**:

That's it.

An ill-favoured thing sir, but mine own.

As I said, I'm considering making a fic out of it, but I'm not too wel versed in military affairs.

I served in the medical corpse, you see, in a civilian hostpital, no less. And I remember little from basic training, and most of that was standing in formation, one way or another, for hours on hours, moving huge rocks, then moving them back,and skillfuly avoiding kitchen duty for the entire duration.

We also did some shooting, ("how on earth did you manage to break your glasses from the recoil, Mo?" "No idea, sir. BTW, that's 850$, sir... and I can't do guard duty when I can't see a yard ahead, sir... won't do you any good, sir") I shot an m-16 rifle and a sub-machinegun.

Oh, there were lectures, in which our officer took care to avoid asking me anything, ("err. sir, I wasn't holding my hand up... perhaps you should ask someone else? No? Okay... Why is it importante for soldiers to know their military history? Well, truth is, sir, I don't consider that important at all, sir. You see sir, the idea that..." on for a while, then, 40 minutes later: "... and certainly not in 40 minutes, sir...") and lessons too, in miliary technology ("...how to reassemble the comm. gear after Mo so helpfully and so skillfuly took it appart for us"), etiquate ("what to do if your Sgt. is a girl? give me fourty, Mo!") and hand to hand fighting with an M-16 ("what are you blabering about, Mo? who the hell is Cumberland?" "I though you said soldiers ought'a know their military history, sir?").

My personal favourite was first aid class, though. ("say, jonathan," "yes, Mo?" "don't you have some paramedic training?" "yes, I know what you're going to say,") I would like to point out that when I was 16 I took some first aid clases, and only passed the practical by being lucky and being asked to do jaw-bansage, I did a mandibular (jaw) cast, which was just about the only thing I knew, but impressed the examiner with my handiwork and precision. Then, doing CPR, he told me that unless I managed to kill the guy whose life I was trying to save, I would have made him laugh so hard he would probably have started breathing on his own... But in basic training they did first aid stuff that was guranteed to kill your patient, rather then saving his life, and not from laugher! But there was no telling so to are NCO, the snout-nosed kid that he was.

We were also beaten into good army-life habbits, such as automatc obedience to the most unreasonable commands ("I told you to climb that cliff, Mo!" "But sir, why climb the cliff when I can go 70 yards to the left and just walk up hill from there? and why go there in the first place? There's nothing up there but mud, and there's just as much mud down here, what's the difference?) and water rationing ("I'm sorry sir, I couldn't drink from the canteen." "why not?" "well, it says right here, 'I peed inside'!" "you peed into your canteen???" ('bloody imigrants, don't they teach them the language before they give them command?') "no sir, not I - look, it's written right here, on the side, I wasn't going to drink from it after such recomandations!" "well soldier, I may not serve on your company, but I do believe bottles of strawberry juice are not army issue!") but that's about it.

Which is why I'd be happy for any help, tip, comments, reservations, military knowledg and training, ideas, plot-bunnies or scenes you would care to share with me. I'm only a mouse click (on that link that sais "_review_") away.

Thanks,

stealacandy

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Review replys:**

This chapter isn't a story, or even much of a bunny, it's just a collection of posts, written in plain-text form, and Yahoo! doesn't provide spell check, and I didn't deem it worthy enough for spending time proofreading it. If you read my other works, you should notice I usually do my best to use good English, even though it's not my native toungue.

anon: "First, at least proofread your spelling." and practice what you preach. I don't know what an fuel-air bomb is, if you would care to elaborate? And Naplam sticks, and is very dirty. Have you ever seen it up close? I didn't, just on educational films (you'd be suprised what the army make you do in Safety seminars, especially after accidents occure), but I treated soldiers with burns and it wasn't pretty. I thought of Voldemort go through this, but he already looks like a slug, so I passed over it... And nukes are more fun! Hisroshima was hit directly and was ruined. The ancient ruins on Anglesy are already... well, ruined. So it's a job well done, I'd say... And nukes are more fun. In the 1999 movie "_Blast From the Past_" they had a nuclear-shelter programmed to open only after 35 years have passed, because by then the nuclear fallout would clear and it would be safe to come out. Maybe they made it up? But I do seem to remember something about old nuclear bomb test sites that are now clean and safe for humans, so it would indicate that it doesn't take hundreds of years. Half-life? As in carbon-dating? what does that have to do with anything? we're talking toxic levels of ratiation. I actually liked the King-Kong angle - I like crack-fics, and that idea just has the making of one. Just see that you don't mix it with "_Jurassic Park: Lost World_". Oh, and nukes or more fun...


	3. SHGZ1, Godric's Hollow

**Plot Bunnies**

**3. Summum, hummum, gummum, zummum!**

A plot-bunny, by **stealacandy**

That name really sucks, doesn't it?

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**A/N:** I started with an idea about Harry doing Voldemort in spite of the horcruxi and just keeping him a prisoner - in an original way - so he wouldn't be brought back from the dead again. But if I wanted Horcruxi, I had to start where HBP ended, so I sent our reluctant heroes to Godric's Hollow. Then the story took over by itself, and made a turn in another direction, and this is what came out.

**Disclaimer**: Writing fan fiction has it's benefits - you get reviews, a nice hit count, and… well, that's about it. It also has some drawbacks. You don't get dividends, or profits of any kind, which means have spent a lot of time and effort counterproductively, and in cases, the story takes a life of it's own and you end up writing something you didn't mean to, which mean you would have to spent even more time counterproductively and write, again, what you _did_ mean to write, and hope you make it this time. Of course, seeing as you don't own Harry Potter (and neither do I, for that matter), you would once again won't profit from it in the least. So be warned: Stay away from fanfic writing. it's highly infectious.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Chapter 1: Godric's Hollow**

Post-HBP, Ron and Hermione joined Harry, as they had promised, and they all went on to do some horcrux hunting. Everything went as planned at first. They had acquired Salazar Slytherin's locket easily enough - taking it from Kreacher's clutches, after - to Harry's twisted delight - being forced to terminate the little blighter. They then turned their attention on the rest of the horcruxi. Hermione rationalized and decided one horcrux must be hidden in Harry's parents home in Godric's Hollow. So the three friends made their way to Godric's Hollow, in search of the lost horcrux, and Harry's lost childhood.

Trouble is, while it has been easy enough to find the pastoral village of Godric's Hollow, it proved impossible to find the house they were looking for.

"Maybe it was built over?" mused Harry. It wouldn't have surprised him if the Dursley's sold the land to land developers and took the money for themselves, the fat, grabbing gold-diggers that they were.

"Maybe the Ministry protected it from curious people wanting to see the site of Voldemort's fall?" offered Ron.

Harry looked at him incredulously. "The Ministry hiding it? Are you insane? They would parade it, present it to the people as _their_ achievement, make a tourist attraction out of it and milk every Knut they can out of it!"

"Dumbledore wouldn't have let them do that!" said Hermione, appalled.

"I don't know, Hermione." said Harry, considering it. "He was very busy in those days - trying to maintain hold over the ministry, capturing Death-Eaters, letting them go free after they claimed they were controlled, starting on his pet redemption projects, putting me in with those blasted Dursleys, putting Sirius in Azkaban… No, I don't think he had the time, presence of mind or will to fight them on that."

"Hmmm… you're right, Harry," said Ron. "maybe Dumbledore himself hid it?"

"I don't think so, Ron." replied Harry. "He would have considered it a trivial matter, perhaps even a good idea - for the greater good of the wizarding world - people would come here and see the site of Voldemort's demise, lose their fear, use his name, perhaps gain a whiff of contempt towards Voldemort, and more importantly, his ideals? And if I had some hurt feelings - well, so be it."

"… What? Why are you looking at me that way? It's not as if he ever cared about my feelings, my comfort, or my state of mind, Hermione. As long as I was alive and relatively unhurt, living to fight another day, so to speak, he was satisfied! You can't deny that!"

Hermione had the presence of mind to stay silent. Ron muttered "Bitter much?", but luckily, Harry didn't hear.

"Perhaps," ventured Hermione, "perhaps it is still hidden under the Fidelious?"

"How could that be?" asked Ron, while Harry looked pensive.

"You remember what Hagrid said, back in third year, at the three broomsticks, Hermione?" Ron continued. "He said he came here to find the wreckage of the house, rescued Harry and carried him away!"

Harry mumbled something along the lines of "over Sirius protestation, on orders from Dumbledore."

"That means the Fidelious must have been down." continued Ron, "or he couldn't have found it!"

"Wait a sec, Ron," said Harry. "What if it _was_ still under the Fidelious?"

"Huh?" was all Ron said.

"Look, why would the Fidelious fall, all of a sudden?"

"Huh?" asked Ron.

"I mean," said Harry, "The Fidelious held until my parents died. Voldemort didn't break the Fidelious, he circumvented it. He had gone to the source and got the secret from the Wormtail, the secret keeper. Why would the Fidelious fail at that moment?"

"Well," started Ron, "Wormtail revealed the secret! Of course it would fail!"

"Yes," agreed Harry. "It failed to protect my parents - and myself - from Voldemort. But why would it fail from hiding the place? Pettigrew has told Voldemort the secret, but not others. So it stands to reason the Fidelious would still stand, hiding the house!"

"But your parents died, Harry!" said Ron, followed by a painfull "Ron!" from Hermione.

"I am well aware of that, Ron," said Harry. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"If they died," Ron explained, "Then there was nothing left to hide. You could say there was no secret!"

"What about me, Ron?" asked Harry, hotly. "What am I, a pickle?"

"Err… no," said Ron, taken aback.

"Harry would have still been hidden under the Fidelious, Ron" said Hermione, "but it doesn't matter, the Fidelious didn't hide the Potters, it hid the house they were hiding _in_. But Ron is right, Harry. How would Hagrid be able to find the house?"

"How indeed," said Harry, his face contorting in anger. "Indeed."

"Maybe he was in on the secret?" suggested Ron.

"Ron! Hagrid doesn't know the meaning of discretion!" argued Hermione. "Harry's parent's wouldn't have confided in him!"

"Don't be so sure, Hermione," Harry interjected. "Dumbledore confided in him, in first year, you remember? Actually, I'm beginning to wonder if he confided in him purposely, knowing he can't keep his tongue…"

"What are you thinking, Harry?"

"I'm starting to think Dumbledore, indeed, kept a much closer eye on me, more then I ever realized, as he told me after Sirius died." Said Harry. "But I'm begging to think he didn't do so because he loved me, as he claimed. The funny thing is, for keeping such a close eye on me, he was never there when I actually needed him, you know? Yet, he always arrived the second I solved the crisis of the hour on my own. You know, Mrs. Figg told me, in so much words, she knew how the Dursleys felt about me and treated me, That would almost have to mean he knew, and kept me there in spite of it, and never lifted a finger or reprimanded them, until last year, when I was almost gone from their life. Isn't it strange? He finally tells the Dursleys to behave when it doesn't really matter anymore, and I get to view him as my personal guardian angle again? It almost seems pre-organized! Never thought of that before. But see here, Hermione," Harry paused. "If Hagrid knew the secret, it would almost mean Dumbledore would have known as well, wouldn't it? It was him, after all, who sent Hagrid here in the first place. So he must have known the secrete."

'Okay," said Hermione.

"But then, if he knew the secret, wouldn't it mean he also knew the secret keeper?"

"You don't think-" started Hermione.

"Actually, I do. I'm beginning to." stated Harry.

"But then why-" Hermione tried again.

"And why did he tell Hagrid to take me to the Dursleys, in face of Sirius's protests? And, knowing the prophecy, why did he never do anything to prepare me? A year ago he promised to teach me. He didn't. All he did was show me some memories of Voldemort's childhood, and that only to get me to get him some more memories, Hermione. It's as if he was setting me to fall. Take Voldemort with me, perhaps? I'm beginning to see some foul play here, Hermione, and I don't like what I learned." By now, Harry was very dejected.

Harry thought about it, while Hermione maintained her silence, and Ron remained oblivious.

"There is only one way to get the answer," he said. "The Dursleys aren't likely to tell me anything if they sold the place and took the money, and I'll get into serious trouble with the ministry for muggle baiting if I tried anything with them. If they didn't, then they are unlikely to know anything useful. We can forget about the ministry. They would give us little answers, and demand much in return. And they, too, are unlikely to know anything useful - they _are_ the ministry - when was the last time they were useful to anyone?"

"So what do you want to do?" asked Hermione finally.

"We talk to Pettigrew." answered Harry. "And Snape, he knows a lot as well. Knows too much, I'd say. And they are both in the same place!"

**The End! **

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**A/N:** Somehow I ended writing a Dumbledore-bashind scene where Harry realizes he has been manipulated all his life. It's been done and done to much, like a dog going back to his spew, but it is mostly in Post-OoTP stories, that Ignore HBP completely, or just borrow some ideas, and more often, characters, from it, but otherwise disregard the book. I'm all for disregarding HBP, but as I said, I wanted horcruxi, even thoug I find them unimaginative and lacking insight, I still respect canon enough to know that if I want the horcruxi, they come with all the baggage that is HBP.

Unlike Post-OoTP stories, Post-HBP stories rarely have this thread of Manipulative!Dumbledore-bashing, and even more rarely, it is done well and is plausible. In light of that, I think I did a fairly well job of it, especially seeing as I had no intention to go there at all when I started writing - all I wanted is a legitimate reason to put Snape, Pettigrew and Harry in one place, in the dirty Spinner's End, which in turn was my excuse for sending Harry on yet another whacky adventure later on. In light of that, I believe I've done a reasonable well job and made it - somewhat - believeable and the story flowing, so I'm pretty much self-congratulating right now, and I expect you to write me some reviews telling me how great I am. Flamers saying I suck big time and am too smug to boot are also welcome, but beware! I know Voodoo! And I have a way with needles, knives, scalpels, stuff like that - I wouldn't even bother with stabbing the doll…

So stay tuned for the next installation of "_Summum, hummum, gummum, zummum!_": _**Chapter 2: Spinner**__**'**__**s End**_.

Read & review and don't forget to bring a towel… (that damn Towlie just has to stick his nose everywhere! And he has black hair in it! I thought he only had fibres, but I guess I was wrong… Towlie want's to inform you all that in face of my promise to myself not to write about him anymore, he started writing his memories on his own. His working title is "Black Hair, Blue Fibre", but is likely to change in the future before he is ready to publish it. Poor Towlie, probably won't find a publisher and end up posting it in ffnet. Of course, they only let human members, so he'll probably nag me till I put it in my profile. You know how he is…)

stealacandy

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Damn Auto-Correction!

And damn ffnet to hell! For all eternity!

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII


	4. Steal a Candy 1: Ragnarok

**Plot Bunny #4: Steal a Candy**

By stealacandy

**A/N:** I was thinking about introducing a female character into a Harry Potter plot, cross-over style. I started thinking about whose character could I steal and go unnoticed, and I came up immediately with Roger Jordan. His Power of Time stories have been going on forever, and everyone in them have been dancing around each other for ages, and have little to show for it. And Jordan created so many characters with such delightfully ridiculous names (that sound like he stole them from the Foundation books), he probably wouldn't miss one if I borrowed her for a while.

**Disclaimer**: JKR owns Harry Potter, and won't allow anyone else near her stories, which is a pity, as she seems to have lost track of it long ago. Tonight the last book is coming out and I'm sure many of you will spend your money on it and would finish reading it by tomorrow morning. Then you could say thanks to Miss Rowling and never look at her work again. Then you could go back to your computer, and find yourself some quality fan fiction, and it would even be free of charge. Isn't life great? Roger Jordan owns the Power of Time circle and he can stuff it for all I care. That's the never-ending story… Reminds me of a guy I know from Argentina - in the 1960's they didn't have cable T.V. so when they wanted to hear news about the 1967 Arab-Israeli six-day war, they listened to Radio Cairo, which they somehow got, I've no idea how they managed that. I think they set up international broadcasting, but I don't know how did it make it's way to Argentina. It was the Chunta days back then, I think, and they were allied with the Egyptians, but that's about it. Anyway, between one false report (that would make Rita Skeeter proud) and another, the Egyptian editors decided to give their international listeners some culture, so they played Schubert's (I think it's his) Unfinished Symphony, or as they called it in Egyptian - "Simfonia Mush Chalastra". Now in some languages, it is slang. "Bring me chalastra" means annoy me greatly, get my temper raised, which seems to be exactly the sole purpose for which Jordan's books were written for. But as it is Jordan, and not I, who wrote them and profits from them, I can't be held accountable for any brain damage you might come up with as a result of reading anything that relates to them.

That was a legal disclaimer.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Steal a Candy**

(alternatively: **Ragnarok** - I can't seem to make up my mind between those two names...)

By **stealacandy**

Voldemort had the most powerful and most trusted of his followers standing in a circle, chanting continuously. They were summoning a creature that would steal Harry Potter's magic and bring it to him. He had called Lucius son, Draco, to guide the spirit back to Hogwarts and take it to Potter. Lord Voldemort could have used Snape, but he was afraid the potion master might try to harvest whatever creature his summoning would bring up for potion ingredients. Then he would take Potter's magic and Potter would be helpless against him. It would be like taking candy from a child.

Urged on by his men's chanting, the Dark Lord set the wood on the stone altar on fire. "_Incendio_. In the name of Yggdrasill," the Dark Lord struggled with the pronunciation - even with his skill an Parceltongue, this was ridiculous - "ashes and fire, I cast thee out." The sacrificial cow on the altar was catching the fire. He would have preferred to go with a wizard or a witch (a muggle was every bit an animal as the cow, so it wouldn't have made much difference there.), maybe even a virgin, losing he innocence in a ritualistic rape, then losing her life as well in a ritualistic murder. The Dark Lord had a reputation to keep, and certain standards to uphold. A human sacrifice was much more grandiose and impressive. The ritual, however, called for a cow, so a cow it was. "In the name of Hell, fire and blood, I call thee in. In the name of Galar," here the Dark Lord nodded to two of his Death Eaters, who promptly sent a barrage of cutting curses at the cow, who bled onto three bowls beneath the altar. It galled Lord Voldemort to call on a dwarf, but it couldn't be helped. Half-breed or not, that's what the ritual required. And they did do an admirable job killing other half-breeds like themselves. Although he would better not give voice to his opinion, as the giants were hot-headed and it was a touchy topic for them. "blood and gore, I lift thee up. In the name of Fialar," he nodded at Severus, Bellatrix and Peter, who started steering honey in with the blood in the bowls, "gore and soil, I send thee forward." by now, the cow was consumed with fire. "In the name of Audhumla," he cried out, tossing a handful of salt at the smouldering carcass, "ice and wind, I give thee life. In the name of Syn," as he Voldemort wondered why she was called on, it didn't seem right, "wind and justice, I open thy path." The Dark Lord Paused. "In the name of Lodur, justice and wisdom, I give thee a vessel." He took the three bowls from Severus and the others, and placed two in opposing corners of the altar and the third on top of the cow's carcase. The cow was still breathing, just barely, but it has given up on struggling, and even the convulsions stopped. Voldemort had to hurry now, else the stupid cow would die on him. "In the name of Haenir, wisdom and sense, I bring thee to me!" finished the Dark Lord in a great voice, stabbing the cow in the chest with a golden dirk, piercing the rib cage and entering the heart, as the ritual climaxed.

A great gush of wind came from the alter, and the ringing of bells. The chanting Death Eaters stopped, and remained silent. Then, just as suddenly as the wind came, it disappeared.

And in place of the cow, in place of the wood, in place of the blood and in place of the honey, lay a beautiful and deadly woman. She was a sight for a sore eye. She was an eye candy.

'I got to learn this ritual!' though Wormtail to himself. 'But I don't want to share!'

The woman lay still, then shivered a little, and opened her eyes. She looked around, disoriented, then rose from her bed.

Lord Voldemort, in satisfaction at a gob well done, greeted his guest. "The Dark Lord welcomes you," he said.

Over at the altar, Esmeralda was panicking. 'The Dark Lord? No! No! it can't be! The Dark Lord and all the forsaken were bound by the creator at Sheol-gal!'. She looked around her. Three of these people - two men and one women - were cleaning themselves - with the Power! She could see the power working, but could not see the flows. It had to be the male half of the One Power. How could they? And a woman? She must be channelling as well. Esmeralda saw the dirt on her hands and ashes on her robes disappear , as if by magic, yet the woman did not seem surprised, or revolted, so that meant she did it herself. And Esmeralda could feel kinship to the woman. She could channel, indeed. But how did she do that? Has she managed somehow to disguise her flows? And why? What Aes Sedai would work in cohesion with men? What is Siouan playing at? Hmmm. Siouan… she could use this for her benefit. If she was to capture two men who could channel magic and bring them back to the white tower, she would gain face and prestige - she might get powerful enough to claim the Amyrlin Seat - and bring back her Ajah to it's old glories. But could she capture a man who could channel all on her own - let alone two?

"Who are you?" asked the ugly one in front of her. 'Must be some sort of a formal servant, to do the talking,' she thought. Like Leanne was for Siouan.

"I am Esmeralda Orohiurin Aes Sedai, of the Red Ajah, Aes Sedai Councillor of Andor."

Lord Voldemort wasn't really sure what that meant, but it sounded promising. Except she was talking about red? Was she connected to Gryffindor? "Are you in league with the lions?" he asked the strange woman he has summoned.

"I am not a subject of the white lions. I serve none but the Red and the Tower. The power of the White Tower is mighty, and it's wrath is terrifying. See that you don't incur it!" said the woman. She was thinking hard. She would have to gentle the two of them, and probably still the woman who was helping them. She'll bind the men - no, the Dark-Friends - that were helping them. And leave them for agents of the Tower to deal with later, after she takes her prize back for a trial at the Tower.

The Dark Lord didn't like that answer, but it was expected. You couldn't summon demons and expect them to be meek. She was bound to do his bidding, and had little power to threaten him with here, in the mortal plain. Whatever hellish plane he brought her from, he doubted he would ever come to call on her at home. He had taken percussions to assure he'll never die and leave the mortal plain. Still, politeness won't cost him anything, and caution was prudent with such creature of power, who could steel a wizard's magic. "I have no plans to incur anyone. As you can tell, we are all wizards here," he said. As Bellatrix opened her mouth to speak, he added "and witches." Bella closed her mouth. "United under the Dark Mark, we seek to purify the world of the blood of those who cannot wield our power."

'They can all channel?' Esmeralda paled. 'I can't possibly capture them all. I can't gentle them all! I won't stand a chance!' Panicking, she still tried to calm herself. Taking several deep breaths, she thought about it. The man must be trying to intimidate her - there is no possible way they can all channel. The Red Aes Sedai have been turning every stone looking for men like that, and have found less and less. So many men couldn't have fooled her sisters and evade capture, could they? No, they are lying. That two men who could channel worked together was astounding by itself. And they are organized - the only men who could channel and started organizations like that, spreading terror and ruin across the land, were false Dragons. Was this, then, the army of one such Dragon? Her suspicions of Siouan were proving to be true! She indeed dabbled with false Dragons. Yet Esmeralda didn't recognise the Aes Sedai with this group. She would have thought Moraine - but no, it was somebody else. 'I will find out who she is.' thought Esmeralda.

The ugly one spoke again. "Yet one enemy stands in our path, a mere boy, yet he has been a pain at our side for as long as he lived. Young Draco here - " here, he turned and beaconed a young man over, "would lead you to him. When-"

The ugly one's words were lost at Esmeralda, as her eyes bulged out. "Draco" the man said. Was _this_ young man the False Dragon? Rumours from Cape Toman had him with red hair, a lot like that AlThor boy that Moraine dangled from her leash. 'Perhaps Siouan has more then one False Dragon running around doing her bidding?'

She had to act fast. If the boy was the False Dragon and he had other men who could channel working for him, that would almost have to mean he could channel too, wouldn't it? Otherwise, they would have lead themselves, not followed. So she decided.

Weaving her flows quickly, she laid the net on the boy, and seconds later, his connection with the ambient magic around him was severed. The job wasn't as good as a concentrated attempt by six, or twelve, or thirteen Aes Sedai, but gentled was gentled, thought Esmeralda.

"What - " the boy stammered - "What have you done to me?"

That answered Esmeralda's question for her. If he felt the gentling, he indeed was gentled. And now to the other two - she was surprised the woman did not try to intervene or stop her. In short order, all three adults were stilled, and bound too, for good measure. Now all she had to do was facilitate her escape. And then Siouan would learn her wrath and her own folly at trying to have her agents take care of her, Esmeralda Orohiurirn Aes Sedai!

"Master," said the woman she stilled. "Master, our magic is blocked - it's as if it isn't there!" she said with a trembling voice. "It's gone completely! She stole our magic! She was supposed to do that to Po-" she didn't get to finish her sentence.

"What?" shouted another man, with platinum blonde hair and robes made out of good Andoran wool, adorned with silk from behind the Aiel Waste. "You turned my son into a squib?" silent prevailed in the chamber. No one spoke. No one dared to breath. What would their master do if his followers lost their magic? What would they do if this woman-like creature took their magic away?

"Crucio!" said Lucius Malfoy, pointing his wand at Esmeralda. Pain, rivers of pain like she never felt before, hit Esmeralda in waves. Another man who could channel? That Dark-Friend had it coming. As soon as the man lifted the ter'angreal in his hand - it had to be that - she pounced, and soon after, he too was squibified.

"Do not attack my guests and my allies, Malfoy!" shouted the Dark Lord. He was not amused. Oh, he was amused at what happened to his followers, and relieved that the ritual worked and the right being with the right gift was brought forth, but he wasn't happy at losing his best followers - and that brat Lucius called a son.

But they were no use for him now, and he couldn't let Lucius' transgression go unpunished. He pointed his wand at Lucius Malfoy, who was now shacking in fear, rather then rage or in shock, as he had moments before. "My Lord, - " he started, but Lord Voldemort wasn't listening.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" said the Dark Lord. A jet of green line shot from his wand toward Malfoy, hitting him smack on the head, and the Death Eater collapsed on the ground in a pile of limbs.

'Another man channelling?' thought Esmeralda in awe. She was beginning to think that perhaps the ugly one said the truth. Perhaps they could all channel? 'Impossible!' she discarded that thought. But this one man, the ugly one, he could definitely channel, and she had to get rid of him, and quick. The other men seemed in awe of him and the blonde had called him "My Lord". Maybe he was a noble? She weaved the power again and directed the flows into a net to capture the man. Nothing happened.

'He must have been holding on Saidin already' she thought, '- good thinking - but what can I do? He's too strong!'

"You Dare!" cried the ugly one in rage. "_Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Istera Belagina Kish Kish Karya! Kul Calb Bigi Yomo! Crucio! _Oh, stop screaming, _Mufilato! Silencio, Crucio! Schwarzeneggerio! Crucio!"_

Pain beyond pain engulfed Esmeralda. If she thought what she went through before unbearable, it paled in compression to this. The pain came, and continue to come, and intensified as it did. And as it continued, her mind snapped. She forgot all that had transpired, she forgot what she was thinking, what she wanted - all she could remember was the man in front of her, torturing her, causing her pain - and the one thing she dedicated her entire life for. Leashing out with everything she could master, to the last bit of Saidar she could hold, she wielded it like an axe and struck at the man. Then she fell down on the altar, unconscious.

Lord Voldemort was in shock. He had lost his magic! He couldn't have lost his magic! It couldn't possibly have happened to him - it was supposed to happen to Potter. How could it be? What? How? He was without magic now? How? What? He stumbled forward, then fell down to ground.

It was Ragnarok.

As Lord Voldemort touch with his magic was broken, so was his spell, and a great gush of wind came from the altar, with the sound of a hundred ringing bells. Then, just as suddenly as it came, it was gone, and in place of the beautiful, dangerous woman that lay on the altar, only three stone bowls stood, filled with ashes and small chunks of bone.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Over in Tar-Valon, Esmeralda Sedai set in her bed. She had a headache. She would have to go to the Yellow for some healing, she wasn't very good with that herself.

She was insane, now, after all the torture she went through.

No one noticed any difference.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

At Hogwarts, on the grounds by the lake, Harry Potter lay on the ground, relaxing, his back to a tree. Had he known anything about trees, he would recognize it as Mountain Ash, but he didn't know, and didn't care. Had he bothered to read "Hogwarts: _A History_", he would have known that it was called Rowan in Scotland, referred to as the "Witch Tree". In fact, most of the trees in the Forbidden Forest were Mountain Ash, and it was Rowena Ravenclaw who planted the first ones there. Harry didn't know that either, and would never bring himself to ask Hermione.

He had a full day and was now resting, in the last hour of light, before curfew started, while Ron and Hermione were busy elsewhere, and he got to be alone. All of a sudden he was jolted out of his position.

A tension he didn't know was there was now gone and Harry's muscles seemed to relax, all over. His head felt good and his headache - _when did he got a headache?_, he wondered - seemed to have gone. Looking around, he saw nothing, so he went back to laying on the ground, savouring the solitude.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII 

In his office, Hogwarts School's headmaster Albus Brian Percival Shmendric Dumbledore set, concerned. Severus has gone to answer Tom's call, saying he would be late to return. Yet it was now nearly five o'clock in the morning, and Severus failed to show. Dumbledore spent the night at his desk, waiting for Severus and what information he cared to share. In his unease and worry, He had gorged himself, without noticing it, on his stash of lemon drops. Now he sent his hand to the candy bowl, and find it empty. Someone has stolen his candy! He would find out who did it.

More hours came, then went away, and still no Severus, and still no candy. All the tense, all the pressure, came back rearing to the headmaster. It was almost to much to bare. Almost - .

It was too much to carry, for an old men with short nerves like him. The headmaster, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, Ten-Pin Bowling enthusiast snapped.

He didn't become insane, he was crazy for a long time.

Only now, as his behaviour would become more and more erratic, people would finally take note.

**The End**

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

About the Norse deities invoked in the ritual:

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Yggdrasill **- the "World Tree", a gigantic ash tree, thought to connect all the nine worlds of Norse cosmology. Sometimes it is called Mímameiðr or Lérað. According to mythology, Ásgard, Álfheim and Vanaheim rest on the branches of Yggdrasil. The trunk is the world-axis piercing through the center of Miðgarðr (often called Midgard), around which Jötunheim is situated, and below which lies Niðavellir, also called Svartálfheim. The three roots stretch down to Hel, Niflheim, and Muspelheim, although only the first world hosts a spring for Yggdrasil. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Hel** - (sometimes Anglicized or Latinized as Hela) - the ruler of Hel, the Norse underworld. This word is the root of the English word hell. Hel's hall is named Eliudnir. 

In the Gylfaginning, she is described as the daughter of Loki and Angrboða – a giantess (gýgr, see jotun) – and thus sister of the Fenrisulfr and the sea serpent Jörmungandr. Since her father is often described as a god, although both his parents were giants, the same might be said of Hel.

When Odin became aware of the existence of Loki's children, he banished them to remote places. Hel he cast down to her realm in the underworld and gave her authority over all those in the nine worlds who do not die gloriously in battle but of sickness or of old age.

Heimskringla relates that she procured herself a spouse by having the Swedish king Dyggvi die a natural death.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Galar** and **Fialar (Fjalar)** (brothers) - dwarves who killed Kvasir and turned his blood into the mead of poetry, which inspired poets. They appear in Skáldskaparmál. 

Fjalar and Galar then murdered a giant named Gilling, along with his wife. Their son, Suttung, searched for his parents and threatened the dwarven brothers, who offered him the magical mead. Suttung took it and hid it in the center of a mountain, with his daughter, Gunnlod, standing guard.

Odin eventually decided to obtain the mead. He worked for Baugi, Suttung's brother, a farmer, for an entire summer, then asked for a small sip of the mead. Baugi drilled into the mountain but Odin changed into a snake and slithered inside. Inside, Gunnlod was guarding but he persuaded her to give him three sips; Odin proceeded to drink all the mead, change into an eagle and escape.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Audhumla** (also spelled Auðumla, Auðhumbla or Auðumbla) - the primeval cow of Norse mythology. She is described in the Gylfaginning part of Snorri Sturluson's Prose Edda after the description of Ginnungagap and Ymir. :

Then said Gangleri: "Where dwelt Ymir, or wherein did he find sustenance?"

Hárr answered: "Straightway after the rime dripped, there sprang from it the cow called Audumla; four streams of milk ran from her udders, and she nourished Ymir.

Then asked Gangleri: "Wherewithal was the cow nourished?"

And Hárr made answer: "She licked the ice-blocks, which were salty; and the first day that she licked the blocks, there came forth from the blocks in the evening a man's hair; the second day, a man's head; the third day the whole man was there. He is named Búri."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Syn** - an Ásynja, or goddess, who according to Gylfaginning "guards the doors of the hall and shuts them against those who are not to enter". She is also invoked by defendants in trials and assemblies. In Skáldskaparmál her name is used in a kenning for "woman". 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Lodur** - one of the Æsir. In Völuspá he is assigned a role in animating the first humans but apart from that he is almost never mentioned and remains obscure. Scholars have variously identified him with Loki, Vé, Vili and Freyr but consensus has not been reached on any one theory. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Haenir** - one of the Æsir. Along with Mímir, he went to the Vanir as a hostage to seal a truce. The Vanir made Hnir one of their members, but he was indecisive and relied on Mímir for all of his decisions, grunting noncommital answers when Mímir was absent. This is related in the Ynglinga saga. 

In Völuspá, at the creation of the first human beings, Ask and Embla, Hnir and Lóðurr help Odin. In Gylfaginning, Vili and Vé are mentioned instead. As Snorri knew Völuspá, it is possible that Hnir was another name for Vili. Also according to Völuspá, Hnir was one of the few gods that would survive Ragnarök.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Excerpts from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. (Sorry, no links allowed on ff net, but it's www first and dot org last. All in low case, of course.)

NOTE: The names of the deities were removed by ff net for some reason, I don't know why. I will attempt to contact them and see if the problam can be solved.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**A/N: **

I'm not sure I've gotten Esmeralda's last name right - it's been years since I read that book, and I borrowed it - wasn't worthy spending money on buying it, I figured, so I had nothing to reference with when I wrote this.

Also, I don't like the ritual I wrote. It needs polishing and improvements. But as I posted this in my Plot Bunnies story and not as a stand-alone one shot, as I might have seeing as this is, in fact, a complete story, that is forgivable. Still, I'd like to rework the ritual sometime, so tell me what you think.

Update: I posted a call for help with the ritual on the biggest Harry Potter Yahoo! group I'm in, but got no reply. It seems that enyone who isn't actively busy reading book 7 is busy discussing it, so no help here.


	5. Spoilerships

**Plot Bunnies: #5 - Spoilerships**

I put a spoiler notice for fun, but there aren't any real spoilers here as I didn't read book 7 and everything I say here is based on the first 6 books.

Update 1: The Spoiler Song list now counts up to 4spoiler songs - and one little extra bonus track.

Update 2: Added a couple of spoilers in a new Author Rant - but they have individual spoiler warnings on them.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Plot Bunny: Spoiler Song**

By stealacandy

Posted on 22.7.07

I

_This is a spoiler warning:_

I

**The Spoiler Song**

I

Silly Snape

The Half Blood Prince

Who looked like an ape

And was dusted and minced.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

He killed this guy

And never said why,

Got killed in return

How I hope he would burn!

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

Draco was a stupid dude

He was brash and crude

He fashioned himself the uncrowned heir

And forgot in the meantime he doesn't have a pair

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

He killed and tortured and broke the law

And so many could testify for what they saw

But then he said he had some regrets

And lived on happily with his scorpion pets

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

Voldemort was a handsome dude

Who chopped his wily off

It was as stupid as it was crude

And all we could do was scoff.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

He got very pissed (he screeched and he hissed)

But his wily wouldn't return.

So he decided to take over the world

And screw us all in return.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

He killed some muggles

Who opposed all his struggles

And he killed some wizards as well

Then realized he was going to Hell.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

So he became a hideous Lich (and since then his voice is a screach)

And assembled a lot of men

He though his goals were within his reach

But there was something he did not understand.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

The Power of love he knew not

And a doting mother has ruined his plot

She gave as good as she got

And vanquished him when they fought.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

Then the manipulative old coot

Who was senile and evil to boot

Took over her child's life

And put him through torture and strife.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

First there was a dead unicorn

And a dead wizard and an immortal stone

He made Quirrlemort wish he wasn't born

As he torched him and left him to burn.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

Next came the chamber of snakes

And the old coot didn't have what it takes

So he sent a young kid in his stead

And he was hit by a sword on the head

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

A year later there were a dog and a cat

And once again the kid missed the sorting hat.

He didn't miss the maraudering rat,

But was stopped in his track by a greasy old bat.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

The following season a challenge was set

And three schools of wizards on the battlefield met

Our hero got suckered and nearly got et (A/N: That's actually English, albeit old)

But he wasn't to die, at least not yet.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

Then he had to contend with a toad

And all the misery he could hold,

While the Dark lord searched for a weapon to mould,

And he was stuck with a teacher bat who'll do nothing but scold.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

It was a bad year, all told,

And Dark lord and minions grew bold,

As the authorities remind silent and cold

And a battle ensued like in stories of old.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

The following year began with the young man infatuation

And ended with him not getting to his graduation,

As his teacher was dead and the school was to close (no verdict was disclosed)

And a major blow was dealt to his cause.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

Indeed, the old coot was manipulative as ever,

And no one would listen to their young hero and saviour,

When the two evil gits got together to scheme

And the old coot insisted they're tame.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

Then he was killed by his spy

And surprisingly no one would cry;

Though Hermione did try,

But her eye sockets proved to be dry.

I

Spoilers spoilers la la la...

I

I

That was a spoiler warning!

(I hope it was long enough. I have some more verses, but I might need them if I need to post another warning in another message.)

(The Spoiler Song, Part #2, 22.7.07)

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Spoilerships:**

I myself was never a shipper of any kind, but up until I read The Interview, I was sure it was gonna be Luna and Harry.

Like I said, they can relate to each other and are good together and Harry took her to a party, and nothing came out of it because he was occupied with Draco and was probably under the influence of a love potion from Ginny.

But JKR said Ginny was the one, so Ginny it is.

And it makes some sense.

Ginny is the first girl to lend Harry a hand, or an ear, or a shoulder.

Hermione always bossed him around and was condescending, too.

Cho, aside from being a bitch, also all she did was bitch about Cedric.

Luna - she has enough baggage of her own, and isn't coherent 100 of the time.

Parvati didn't work out and she was more of a last resort then an actual love interest.

Lavender wasn't even that, and Ron's experience with her probably scared Harry away.

Who's left? Millicent Bulstrode? Marietta Edgecomb? Please!

And the Huflepuff chicks - he never spoke with Hanna and barely with Susan. And by the beginning of Half-Blood Prince, Susan has enough baggage of her own - and even if Harry can find common ground with her, he keeps his distance.

The Ravenclaw chicks?

Padma probably gave up on Harry after seeing her sister's ordeal, and after her own time with Ron probably scared off stupid Gryffindors altogether.

Mandy Bruckeltart - who's she? not a word about her, so Harry isn't likely to fall head over heals for her all of a sudden.

Sally Ann Perks? As some people said, she disappeared before Order of The Phoenix.

Terry Boot, I believe, is a guy. I may be wrong, but the fact some think he's a girl, or that I think she's a boy, means he/she's a minor character, no major love interest there.

Slytherin chicks?

Pansy's with Draco, Blaise's a dude, Tracy and Daphne just sneer and we don't know anymore about them then we do about Mandy Bruckelhart (if that's how her name goes - she's such a minor character I don't even know her name!)

French chicks?

Fleur's too old. she thinks Harry's a little boy. He may have saved her sister and proved his worthy, but that didn't change his age. Time did, but she aged as well, and hooked up with Bill in the meanwhile.

And Gabrielle's too young. (She'll be starting Hogwarts in book 7, if she somehow makes her way to the UK.)

Older students?

All we know are Katie Bell, her friend Leanne (or something), Alicia Spinnet (What about her? Isn't she with Lee or something?) and Angelina Johnson (who's with Fred. Or was.)

They all left the school and had little interaction with Harry outside Quidditch. Angelina pissed him off and Katie spent her time in St. Mungus. That's it, not much to work with.

Even more older women?

I liked Tonks in Order of The Phoenix, but in Half-Blood Prince she makes an about turn and the bubbly person she was turn into a humble mouse. I don't think so.

Who else is left? Penelope Clearwater/ Isn't she with Percy?

Some older women?

Hestia Jones? How old is she/ Who is she?

Gwenog Jones? Holyhead Harpy. Hmmm...

Doris Crawford - Run for your life!

Emeline Vance? That's necrophilia.

Who else is left?

Arabbela Figg? She's his nanny (for what she was worth). Not only she's way to old, smells like cabbage and shares her bedroom with a troop of cats, it's too Oediphilic.

Rita Skeeter? Don't make me laugh. And she'll probably bring Bozo into bed...

And that's about all the female characters left, unless Harry looks for older witches, be them Hogwarts professors like Sinistra, married women like Narcissa Malfoy (you wish) or Molly Weasley (like that's gonna happen. And she looks worse then Bonny in the movie.), Ministry workers like Mafalda Hopkirk (I can see that happening, yeah) or Dolores Umbridge (Delusional!), Diagon Alley shop owners (Madam Malkien is already a madam, not a mademoiselle), or Death Eaters like Bellatrix Lastrange (Killed Harry's godfather? Insanely cruel? Dedicated her life to Voldemort? Insane? Saggy Azkaban tits? Rings a bell?).

Even if these are good FanFic openings, JKR can hardly write it, let alone publish it.

There are only two more female characters (who don't fall into the last categories. Wait, they probably do, too.)

The teacher whose hair Harry turned blue - I think she had a name, I may be mistaken.

And Aunt Petunia.

Ewww.

(And she's married too, she wasn't in the married category as it pertained to witches only.)

So only Ginny's left as a possible love interest for Harry, even if it's not much of a possibility as it is.

The only other thing JKR could have done was write was create a new original female character, but then we would probably accuse her of making Mary-Sues...

Oh! I forgot 2 things!!!

The first is Romilda Vain. Too shallow and scared Harry away with her attitude as much as Draco did, and with her attempts to mind control him, as much as Voldemort did. Fat chance that would work.

The second is slash. Too controversial, Not a chance it would sell for kids and would probably get banned. Also, in most cases would be too shallow.

Draco scared him as much as Romilda did, Snape raped his mind, don't need to do his body too, Voldemort raped his soul, Dumbledore's probably withered and shrunk from age, Colin's too hyper, Ron's probably homophobic and if not, won't agree to be the bitch, and he's a git anyway, as is Percy. The twins have each other, as do Crabbe and Goyle. Should I go on? Seamus and Dean? Don't know. Hagrid? Too big, would be very painful... and smelly... and likes Olymph Maxime. And a threesome with her would probably get Harry trampled to death. Actually Hagrid alone would probably do the trick, his hugs are bad enough. Gwarp? You got to be kidding. And he likes Hermy, anyway. Firenze? How does that work exactly? And who rides on who? Bane? Doesn't like humans. Doesn't like fowls either.

What we're left with is bestiality. Well:

Aragog? Dead. (Morag? Female spiders tend to eat their mate after the mating…) Buckbeak - to dominating... Fawks? well, as a fire-bird he's really _hot_... alas, not a mammal... and to this day I still wonder if merpeople are - they do have mamries (that's breasts to you), but below the torso, from the pelvis onwards, they are fish. How exactly does that work? And JKR probably doesn't want to risk infringing copy-rights from Disney with a mermaid trying to get someone to transfigure her tail into some more human anatomy - those guys are killers. The giant-squid might have sufficed, but he's a cold fish. The basilisk in the chamber had a stunning look, but also liked to stalk girl's bathrooms, and is dead, for that matter. So are Quirrel's trolls. Winky's drunk, Dobby might be willing, but Harry would only go so low. So nothing out of Snape's jars, either.

You get the picture?

But there's no way JKR would have written slash, let alone the other thing.

So Ginny it is.

P.S. Oh, yeah! I just remembered Hedwig! She doesn't have the right equipment, but Harry could try for an owl animagus form. (I wonder how many half-brothers and god-brothers does he have in the forests and kernels of Britain?)

But JKR said eons ago he wasn't going to become one, so no help here.

Alas, back to Ginny.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Somewhat more serious **Author Rant** here:

Now, the question is, "Was there a love potion in there somewhere?" Or rather, "Who gave Harry the love potion" - it's pretty obvious someone did. Why, you ask?

I did not read DH, so I won't say anything about any possible Ron & Hermione ship that may or may not be love-potion / charm & enchantment / mind-control induced. Only Half-Blood Prince stuff here.

Hence, no spoiler warning, for once.

What a pity.

Anyway, to answer your question, no, there's no evidence that out-rigt tells us Harry is influenced by a love potion.

But there are a lot of hints.

JKR used to do a massive amount of foreshadowing in the early books, up to Order of The Phoenix, and that got us into the habbit to look for hidden meanings in every word and hints and clues in every sentance. So we are just doing the same here, in Half-Blood Prince, and this is what we see:

Back before class starts, we see Fred and George selling love potions.

First potion class: Enter Amorenthia.  
Tom Riddle was born as a result of massive love-potion abuse.  
Romilda Vain tried to do Harry with one.  
Ron got poisoned by it.  
Earlier, Harry hears Molly tell Ginny about how SHE had captured Arthur's heart using a love-potion. Ginny giggles. Giving her ideas?  
Lockhart suggested girls get love potions from Snape. Bad idea, on multiple accounts, but wizards are dumb, witches somehow even more so (at least those falling for Lockhart)

Did I miss anything?

Hermione was discussing how to sneak stuff into Hogwarts - I think she was talking about love potions, though I'm not sure.

Now, all that together teams up with the fact that Harry who never so much as acknowledged Ginny before Order of The Phoenix and barely noticed she existed then, all of a sodden falls for her out of the blue after a couple of short conversations, and moreover, does so in a very peculiar way.

Monster-in-the-chest? What the f is a "monster in the chest"?

Sounds like a love potion to me, yeah.

That, and the fact that, as several people told me lately, and I agree whole-heartedly, in Order of The Phoenix, all the signs pointed towards a romantic relationship between Harry and Luna (that's how I read it, H/Hr shipper would argue with this point), and in Half-Blood Prince he seems to act somehow on those signs despite that stupid monster in the chest thing, and even takes her to a party.

Then it all goes out the window and it's Ginny and the monster in the chest. What could have changed that?

Either we were delusional when we were seeing the story going towards a Harry/Luna direction, (but that is reserved to H/Hr shippers, inn'it?) or JKR was delusional when she was writing H/G (might as well have been) or something weird happened in the middle - read: a love potion!

So, who put it in?

I though it might be Ginny, who always wanted Harry, and got ideas from her mother - and twin siblings. Or it could be Molly - giving matters a helping hand to let her daughter get what she wanted - and perhaps her son too, as well as give _the poor boy _some_ well deserve happiness_, some _reward_ after a fashion, as she sees it. It could be Ron, who wants to keep possible competition for Hermione's heart at bay away from her. It could be the twins, thinking it's funny, and lending their little sister, _ickle Gin-Gin_, a helping hand.

Or, it could be Dumbledore.

Someone (goes by "Drake" on Yahoo!), who just happens to be a H/Hr shipper in his past-time pointed out to me that not only Dumbledore manipulated Harry's life in such a way he doesn't share his emotions with Hermione when she (or anybody else, for that matter) asks him about it - that's inevitable, given what he passes as his childhood.(He also pointed out that Ron isn't any better and is in fact much worse, and he doesn't have the excuse of a rotten, loveless, lonely childhood to hang onto.) He stated that what Harry is manipulated by Dumbledore into being doesn't sit well with Hermione, so the often clash. I disagree on that point, as I am not a H/Hr shipper, and take pleasure in Hermione bashing nearly as much as I do in Ron bashing, which comes second only to Dumbledore bashing...

He then pointed something that completely eluded me up to that point: By Order of The Phoenix at the latest, Dumbledore was doing all in his power to prevent a romance between the two of them (forcing Hermione and Ron to be together at number 12, Grim Old Place and isolating Harry from any contact, which resulted in a lot of negative feelings on his part, directed towards Hermione. He then made Ron a prefect and got him to spend even more time alone with Hermione, further isolating Harry. Forcing Harry to take extra classes was a bonus, and a stroke of genius. This way he got to spend less and less time with his friends, being busy with "lessons" with Snape whenever he wasn't being tortured during detention with Umbridge, and having headaches the rest of the time...).

Dumbledore practically threw Hermione towards Ron!

Reading this, it's not a great leap of imagination to think Dumbledore also pushed Harry towards Ginny, with a help from a little fairy friend. That is, magic.

His reasons may be varied, but notice that in Order of The Phoenix Harry was beginning to take the responsibility of protecting himself into his own hands, albeit with Hermione's prompting (i.e. starting the DA) and that mustn't have set well with Dumbledore, so in Half-Blood Prince Harry all of a sodden is more preoccupied with stalking Ginny and sulking, stalking Draco and sulking, or just plain sulking. And he abandons the DA.

He also abandons any ideas of further learning to defend himself on his own, even without the DA. He always expecting those special classes with Dumbledore that he promised him, but Dumbledore never follows up. SO in the end Harry is totally dependent on Dumbledore and his conniving plan, whatever it is that he reveals to him in the Deathly Hallows.

Reasons and motives aside, it's probable that Dumbledore did it. The question then, is how.

Was it a love-potion he gave Harry? Or, more probably, did enchanted him in another way - with the wand-waving branch of magic no one could rival his proficiency with?

Then, once he died, and his magic died with him, like the Body-bind hex he put on Harry.

---- This is a SPOILER WARNING!!!!!! If you didn't read book 7 and don't want to clue in, skip over the next few lines!!! ---

Or he lost the Elder Wand to Draco and with it the magic performed by him with it - I don't know, I didn't read Book 7 and all I know about the Elder Wand is from hearsay.

--- That was a SPOILER WARNING!!!!! Told you I'll warn you, dinn' I? Now back to the topic: ---

So the first opportunity Harry got after Dumbledore's defeat, now that the magic's gone, whatever it was, he immediately broke thins up with Ginny.

--- This is a SPOILER WARNING again!!!! If you didn't read book 7 and don't want any advance glance into it, don't read further, until the warning ends!!! ---

Then, sometime later, either someone (Ginny, to get him back? Molly, to have her dream of a big happy Weasley family? Fred & George, cause they think it's funny? Ron, to continue what Dumbledore's did and keep Harry away from Hermione and Hermione near him? Someone from the Order, rationalizing that if Dumbledore did it before, it's probably a good idea? whoever it is, doesn't matter) puts Harry back on the love treatment, this time with a love potion, and Harry fall for Ginny all over again.

I maybe wrong about it all.

Maybe this time, there's no love potion, only when Harry broke up with Ginny he didn't know why, only that it didn't seem right at the time, so he rationalized it and decided he broke up with her in order to protect her, which means the whole ordeal he's going through in DH is somehow to protect her, and once he's done they should get back together, he thinks that's what he wants and what he needs.

So he goes back to Ginny and they stay together out of inertia. Unless some one would stop him, and all that - well, Ron isn't going to stop him. Sirius is dead, so is Remus. And Tonks. Ginny sure as Hell ain't gonna stop him - that's what she always wanted. Hermione, as you said, is at the butt end of more of the same manipulations and thus to preoccupied with Ron to take notice and do anything about it. So who's to stop Harry? No one. Which is why, 19 years later, he is in the same place he begun.

Now, seeing as this is my Plot-Bunnies section, I had this idea about making a fic out of it, a post-Epilogue fic with a H/Hr theme. I would have rose up to that challenge and actually write a fic from it, but I already have too much on my plate, and didn't read the Deathly Hallows, so I can't very well write a post-Deathly-Hallows story, can I?

Molly dies and her magic die with her, then Harry and Hermione all of a sodden start to find that they don't really like, let alone love, their significant others, or what their lives have become. It's not like they just start realizing they don't like their spouses, out of the blue, after 18 years of marriage, thing is, they were enchanted by Molly Weasley to go for her children, and now she's dead her magic is gone, like with Dumbledore and the body-bind hex he put on Harry at the end of the Half-Blood Prince.

Now, that is brilliant! No more big, happy Weasley family? And such settings would actually make the H/Hr ship make sense! (note that I cant help myself and just have to take the occasional jab at H/Hr shippers every once in a while. Nothing against you, people, but When I started this idea on a forum, it went from there to a ship war in short order, with about a hundred messages in the span of few hours, and some of the things people said there made me think some of them really are delusional - or at least touched in the head.) They'll relate to each other and have common ground - that of being enchanted by Molly.

Tommy Cochran, who started that topic with me, suggested killing off Ron and Ginny, and getting Harry and Hermione together while trying to overcome their grief. Other then that way you get no bashing, I soon realized you didn't get a story either... If we must kill the two of them off, let it be later rather then earlier. Kill them in the beginning and there's no story left to write! What will I write, that Harry and Hermione got together and become all mushy and teary eyed and lovey-dovey? Yay to them, hurray to me, what now? The best I could think of doing with such a starting point is to offer it to someone to write some Harry/Hermione lemon for one of the adult fan fiction sites, if that's what floats their boat. I'm no good at that, and don't like to read these stories either. I don't object lemon (too loudly) as long as it contributes to the story and promotes the plot. If it's lemon for the sake of lemon, and worse, a story with nothing but lemon, well, might as well drop the fiction and do the real thing, thank you very much. And without the lemon? I, for one, won't read such a story, because I don't see the point - it's a non-story. The only other thing I can see done with that idea is to write about them struggling with their grief as well as their responsibility as parents, or something like that, perhaps getting together through their kids?. Good. So that'll give me one half decent chapter out (and will still be mushy and lovey-dovey, which I would like to avoid), then what?

If, on the other hand, you keep Ron and Ginny alive, you got a story to write - how do Harry and Hermione get away from their clutches? What will the Weasleys do? Will they retaliate? Will they show to be gold-diggers or will shame and guilt, finally, hold them back? How will society react? Will they side with the bewitched, raped for years under tight mind control? Or would they take the usual Ron stance - "Harry has everything, it's good to see him down a peg for a change" - not to mention siding with the pure-bloods against the half- and mud- bloods who deigned to pollute the pure-blooded Weasley line and now have demands against them.

We could have Ginny trying to take her mom's place and enchant Harry and Hermione herself, but now they are forewarned and would fight it with their teeth.

We could have Ron do something - what exactly, I don't know Ron is a loose canon, he's the odd ball, he can do just about anything and through everyone into chaos.

We could have the twins, either for comic relief or for serious causes, take either side, or both, and actively support them with their conniving schemes. Heck, we could have one twin side with Harry and Hermione, the other with Ron and Ginny, and have one twin working against the other - it could spill to their business, or they could swear to keep personal and professional apart. Or they could be pretending to side against each other and actually work together in secret to try and resolve the situation - and again, which side do they truly support?

SPOILER WARNING: incoming spoiler:

Oh, wait, one of the twins die in DH, no?

Well, would that drive the other to be fiercely loyal to his surviving siblings, at the expanse of others, or will he strive to become a better man and do what is right?

End of SPOILER WARNING

And don't start me on the three older Weasleys.

The possibilities just with Percy alone are numerous - and delightful!

That has the making of good fan fiction, whereas your suggestion leads nowhere, and also sucks.

But Tommy's idea has merit, too, with some changes. "Drake" (drakehort) came up with some helpful suggestions, which I won't go into, but he suggested to have Ron hit with an unlucky bludger, and die. I liked that one in particular, although I'd rather he wasn't killed, but put in a coma. Then he can't do any more enchantments on Hermione (say they need constant reinforcements). Now Hermione wakes up as if from a trance and realizes she can't really stand him. Sucks, inn'it? Hermione can't get a divorce, as her husband can't sign it. Still, she turns to Harry for comfort (and because she loved him from the start, the H/Hr shippers here force me to add, only Ron's underhanded interference came in the way before) but has to contend with the guilt of breaking her wedding vows while her husband is disabled, not to mention hurting Ginny, no matter how both she and Ron deserve it.

I liked it. (Of course I like my idea better, but the way I put it it's closer to my idea anyway. Just make Ron's accident _after_ Mollie's death.).

Drake also suggested having Hermione and the kids move in with Harry and Ginny to get their aid with their care, and affection on one side and tension on the other grow in the Potter household. Then have Ginny die somehow - say in giving birth, or when some dark wizards trying to get their hands on the Elder Wand attack the family, and H/Hr shippers would finally get their pound of flesh. I only had one reservation, that with suggesting Hermione move in with Harry and Ginny, someone's bound to suggest they all join together in a threesome - that is, until Luna comes to visit... Then perhaps some witches in scanty clothing who heard rumours about Harry's unprecedented "wand" join the party...

There I go, I'm suggesting it myself... Damn! Fell into my own trap.

Anyway, I just put it in here so if ever I finally read the Deathly Hallows and decide to write this into a story, I won't be accused of plagiarism, so this is to let you know I did it first. That said, anyone who wnats to take it and work with it is welcome, only let me know - I would love to read it.

Thanks.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**A/N**: I saw too many spoiler notices that went like:

S

P

O

I

L

E

R

(which wasn't very useful as the forum engine would show it as SPOILER at the summary, removing the empty spaces.)

or "SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER..." and so on, that going over several lines of text. That did the trick (not showing any real spoilers in the summary) but wasn't very fun or original, so I came up with several spoiler notices after my own heart.

Because:

Spoilers spoil your fun

And often are only bad puns,

So don't go and spoil it, mann

Or you'll be facing the wrong end of my gun!

la la la

Spoilers are not nice

So keep away from such vice

Or I'll feed your balls to mice

And bury you under three tons of ice.

la la la

(SPoiler Song #1, 21.7.07)

Anyway, after putting so much work into the Spoiler Song, I figured, what the hell, people might want to read it - after all, about 90 people so far read my Bash song, so I decided to post it here as well.

I left the **disclaimer** for the end:

I don't own Harry Potter or anything JKR wrote

- she's just spoiling my fun -

I write cause I like it and I don't get paid

- If I do may I crumble and burn under the sun.

I

I

That disclaimer sucked.

I know.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

That's it.

Yeah.

I

I

I swear! Honest to god!

That's it, I said!

Stop reading this!

There is nothing left for me to say!

Don't read this, it's just a warning for you not to read on!

Would you go somewhere else please?

Nothing here.

Go away!

Get a life!

Get a job!

Get a girlfriend!

Get lost!

Just get!

Go away!

I told you to go away!

And stop reading this crap!

Stop!

Oh, I give up...

Here are some more Spoiler Songs:

I

**Spoiler song** #3 (24.7.07)

I

Don't spoil it for me, bast  
I want the mystery to last  
So don't be rash and fast  
and put a warning if you must

I

I have to show you trust  
Don't throw it to the dust  
Try and learn from the past  
Or you'll end out outcast

I

I

The **Spoiler Song**, part #4: (24.7.07)

I

Spoiler Space,  
What a place!  
Don't you waste  
My Spoiler Space.

I

It's not a case  
Of "In your face";  
It's not a race  
So keep your pace.

I

No Spoiler trace,  
Not even a taste;  
So spoiler space  
Or face my mace.

I

I

**The Spoiler Song,** No. 5 (26.7.07)

I

Spoiler spoiler spoiler, just so you'll be warned  
Spoiler spoiler spoiler, I'll say it right out front  
Spoiler spoiler spoiler, I'm out to spoil your fun  
And cover you in spoilers, so much so you will drown

I

If you want to spoil a story  
Tell it all in all it's glory  
But be swift, I'm in a hurry  
To find the juicy parts and all the gorey

I

Spoiler spoiler spoiler, go and spoil ahead  
Spoiler spoiler spoilers are a neccessary bad  
Spoiler spoiler spoiler, I'm sure you'll understand  
That I need all those spoilers, just to keep my head.

I

I

The next one has nothing to do with Spoilers, per se (other then to fill the spoiler space), but will probably spoil your appetite...

I

Snippety snap  
sit in my lap  
take a nap  
while I mind the gap

I

I


	6. More Stupid Poems

No **Plot** and no **Bunnies** **part 6**: **Stupid Poems**

by **stealacandy**

This chapter contains some stupid poems I wrote, some have something ti di with Harry Potter, others may or may not have anything to do with it, but I'll let you decide / judge for yourselves.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**He got the whole...**

**A/N**: The following poet was never finished, as the author was unforyunately eaten before finishing it.

I

He holds the whole world in his hands,

He holds the whole world in his hands,

He holds the whole world in his hands,

He holds the whole world in his hands.

I

He brings the whole world to his mouth,

He puts the whole world in his mouth,

He holds the whole world in his mouth,

He chews the whole world in his mouth.

I

_Crunch!_

_xchhh..._

_Screach!_

_Boom!_

_I_

He swallows the whole world down his throat,

He ate the whole world without a second thought,

He digests the whole world in his belly,

And for a puddong he got jelly.

I

I

"Ooh, munchy!"

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Disclaimer**: This is a based on a gospel song, I don't thinkl anyone has the right to it. ANyway, those stupid superstitous Afrian-Immigrants in the North-American old south are to dim to know that God doesn't have hands - he doesn't have a body at all! Why else do you think, in thousands of years of existance, he only got one illegitimate son? Ittakes a very special kind of woman to please him. the rest of the time he spends playing muse and inspiring Kieth Richards and Mike Jager...

But don't blame it on the africaners - they had no education. Blame it o the Euro-caucasian immigrants n America - they enslaved the Africans they kidnapped from Africa and then, once they saw their way to set them free, they denied them education, so they would spend their time in church instead and make up good music, so later the Euro-Caucasians could come and steal it from them. Don't white men suck?

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Odd to Ed**

**A/N**: The following I wrote the da after Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows came out - some guy compared JK Rowling to a prostitute, and another said Robert Heinlin said it before. I asked what did that make him, a fan-fic writer, who doesn't even get money in return, and he said he's a prostitute too. Only he's a gunsmith the rest of the time. Then some other guy pointed out that the first guy, Ed, is also a literature critic, even if only a self proclaimed one, and that Robert Heinelin said this was the lowest profession...

Also, several people were comparing the shalowness of romance in the last two Harry Potter novels to some bad Japanese Manga comics and anime shows (no generalization here - some are good, yet others are bad. But in both kinds relationships often suck)  
It got me thinking about songs about geishas - of all the things to write poems and sonnets about! I also just found out that the author of Harry meet Godzilla came out of his shell and long solitude and wrote a couple of new chapters. I didn't have the presence of mind to read either one (I have to prepare first for some long suffering...), but as I opened the first document to make sure they really are new chapters, I saw the word Geisha in the first page (For some reason, the author thought it made sense that Fleur Delacour would go to Japan and decide to join a Geisha school to learn the trade. Go figure.). That's what got me thinking about geishas, and I figured, if Japanese poets can write poems about whores and hookers, then so can I. So I ended up writing an

I

I

Odd to Ed:

I

There was a prostitute called Ed

Who didn't like JKR

He wrote some scenes that were obscene

And often got drunk at the bar.

I

Ed was bad

And so was Ned

They rubbed each other oh so long

And now they both are red

I

Oops, I forgot to mention Ted

Who wanted to get some head

He called Ed over to his bachlor pad

And they did their thing in bed.

I

He had some good time with his mate

Ted And was well worth what he was paid

And he did it with everything he had

And came twice before he fled.

I

But that was then,

Ted's long gone dead

And Ed in not quite mad

But he was placed in special-ed.

I

I don't want to know what he may have said

Or if he ever asked for aid

Or went down on his knees and prayed.

I just hope that one day he would be glad.

I

There's a few more things I'd like to add

Ed went back to play with "guns"

Now my tale is over and the story is made

Didn't want to insult, it was all in good fun

I

I

I wrote this for Ed and he actually liked it. I tell you, these Americans...

**Disclaime**r: In most places prostitution is agains the law. I think.

Never stopped people from prostituting themselves for just about anything and to just about anyone.

Good thing we have morals, huh?

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**Ssrs Ssshss Shsshss**

Voldemort's pet basilisk didn't have a lot to do while waiting for it's master to return after he left the school. So he wrote poetry instead. He had a bit of a disability that prevented him from writing, so no copies of his works were preserved, let alone saw light, but one poem he did mennage to write down, carving it onto the wals of his stoney cage with his sharp front fangs. Harry Potter was kind enough to copy it down from me, but was to busy to provide a translation. Alas... Still, here is the original:

Ssrs Ssshss Shsshss

Sshss sssrssahh shasahsssr ssrssahssh, ssssharsss sschssraa ssrs ssassusssa ssssissssshsss:

Ssssrsshs ssraharssss ssssharsss sssahhh ssrs sssehhssahssr ssssisssuhh ssassusssa ssssnivsssluhhssssss

Sss sssssraffss ssassusssa sssruhhhssss sssahhhh, ssschuchssss sss srrrsss shahhhssrrr srrsss shrrssssh,

Sssssah ssssusssahh sssi sssufff ssrrrrrrrrrssshehhh auchauchssssse ssrs ssrahashsssa ssassusssa shahhh.

I

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. If you tried to read it aloud, please refer to Dr. and Dr. Granger for medical aid.

Update:  
Mrs. Ginevra Potter, Harry Potter's wife, after some reservations going back to her ordeal in the Chamber of Secrets, decided she likes to hog all the publicity her husband shys away from, and couldn't pass over the oportunity to speak with me. She was kind enough to provide me with a translation:

The Dead Master 

Amid earth's vagrant noises, he caught tho note sublime:

To-day around him surges from the silence of Time

A flood of nobler music, like a river deep and broad,

Fit song for heroes gathered in the banquet-hall of God.

I

Mrs. Potter stated she didn't know dark creatures could have such a poetic soul.

I told her the Nazies liked Opera. And I must admit, the Germans really are the supperior species. Only a super human could stand to listen to the torture that is the Ring of the niblongins, or whatever it's called. I have a friend who has it on a CD set (You know these CD cases that hold 4 CDs? Well, the opera spanns several of those...) and it gave me a headache halfway throug the first track... She asked me who are Nazies and Germans and what is an Opera, and I sent her to have ask Hermione. It would give her something to do between washing the dirty laundry inside, while all her fans wash it out in public.

Update 2:  
I didn't know Basilisks read muggle poetry. And I still can't phatom why this particular snake would have seen a poem by John McCrae, let alonewhy he would feel like writing it down.

**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter belongs to himself, no matter how much Ginerva tries to claim possesion. He also belongs to JKR, the poor fellow, he thought he sold his soul to the Devil, then found iut she wears Prada.  
The basilisk used to belond to Voldemort and to JKR too, but he abandoned it and she killed it off, so I call first bids.  
Still, there isn't much of a market for basilisk products outside of Diagon Alley and I can't very well go there, seeing as I a lowly mugle and all that, so I'm still not making any money of it, you know.  
John McCrae wrote "In Flanders Fields" in the 19' teens, and is long dead, too. The copy-right is long gone, and I'm sure McCrae ia happy on any of these rare occasions when somebody bothers to read his works. I don't know when did the basilisk wroe it and tried to pass it as it's own, but I sure don't aprove. I thonk those busy-body lawyers should sew it. All the basilisk could do then is just try and stare them to death. Many tried with the layers, and it never worked before. Stil, there's a first for everything...

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

**A/N**:

Well, that's it.

For now.

I will probably come up with other stupid poems that I wouldn't be able to resist posting, and put them in here in a later date. I doubt anyoe would bother reading this once, let alone coming back here to read it again and check for updates, so it doesn't matter anyway. Still, a trap for the uninformed green reader... hmmm.


	7. Doctors: Vernon Dursley

**Plot Bunniy #7: Doctors, Part 1**

By **stealacandy**

**Disclaimer**: Patients violence in hospitals is no laughing matter. It's a very bad behaviour and should be stomped. Violence towards fiction authors isn't very nice either, and even though JKR mocked up the series, I implore you, don't go there. Don't do violence. Violence is the last resort of the incompetent, and you are anything but. You are accomplished, acclaimed fan-fiction writers. Still, I'm sure a lot of people right now wish writers, other then JKR, could have made money off Harry Potter, so his story would have attracted some better and more talented writers to it and they would have written a better ending to the series, while JKR was busy spending her money on stuff somewhere else. Alas, that was not to be. Which is why I write for free, not for a fee, I make no money, which sucks greatly, but can't be helped.

Damn.

**A/N**: I don't know where this came from, it just did. And I'm already planning a sequel with Dudley at the dentist. I'm thinking of writing one about Petunia, too, but nothing comes to mind. Anyone care to suggest any ideas? Leave them in a review! (Hint, wink, nod)

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Doctors, or Vernon Dursley's worst day.**

**Little Whinging, Surrey**

**The family doctor's office**

"Well, Vernon," said the doctor, "If you're not willing to do a diet, at least try not to yell so much. It isn't doing you any good, you know."

Vernon's face turned a shade of purple.

"It's not me, it's my good for nothing nephew! He always mucks around destroying everything good -"

"Be that as it may," the doctor cut him in mid-rant, "you have to take yourself in your hands. If your nephew bothers you so much so that you can't control your temper around him, just stay away from your in-laws, then."

Vernon now resembled a plum.

"I- He- My sister-in-law and her husbands died and I got stranded with their delinquent son in my care.."

"Really?" asked the doctor. "That's sad." Then he frowned. "How come you never brought him in for me to check? I am your family's doctor, after all!"

"Err.. He goes to the same doctors that looked at him when his parents were still alive." Vernon came up with a quick lie.

"Right. Well, you are the adult here, and you need to control yourself. If you can't restrain your nephew, I doubt shouting at him will help. Try to give him some positive encouragement instead, perhaps? Hmmm… I wonder… Perhaps you are so loud for another reason. I think, maybe you've got a hearing problem?… I'll send you to an E.N.T."

**No. 4, Privet Drive, Some time later:**

"But Petunia," whined Uncle Vernon, "I can't take him with me, what would people think, seeing the delinquent in these horrible cloths of his?"

Harry though that was a riot - Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia gave him these cloths in the first place, and now they complain that they reflect badly on _them_? What did they think _he_ felt like, actually having to wear them, and walk with them in public?

"Vernon, Dudleydumkins and I are going to a doctor too, Dr. Granger, the dentist, on the other side of town, and I won't leave the boy alone in the house to bring it down on our heads!"

"But if we're not here, the freak would bring the house on his own head!" said Dudley, and was actually intelligent for a second. Then the second passed.

"What about that old woman Figg?" asked Uncle Vernon?

"She got some weird disease from one of her cats." answered Aunt Petunia.

"Good, then send the boy along, he'll get it too!" said Uncle Vernon.

'It's good to know you care,' thought Harry to himself.

"But Vernon, he lives with us, we could get affected as well!" said Aunt Petunia.

'Good to know you care too,' thought Harry.

"Nonsense, Petunia, I'll just lock him in his room again."

'Yeah, lock me away, why not. Just great.' Harry didn't like it one bit.

"But what would those people think about it?" asked Aunt Petunia, thinking of the wizards and witches that warned them off at King's Cross railway station.

"Alright, alright, I'll take the boy with me." said Uncle Vernon. "You, boy! Get cleaned, I'm going to see the doctor and you're coming with me!"

'About time those damn Dursleys took me to see a doctor…' thought Harry sarcastically.

**Greater Whinging, Surrey**

**Otorinolaringology Clinic**

"Uncle Vernon," started Harry, slowly, as the two of them walked out of the doctor's office and into the waiting area. "I know some people, healers," he paused. "They could fix you with somethong real quick, you know."

Vernon's face once again took a colour of an aubergine.Which was complimentary to the shape it took.

"**I will NOT be a like those FREAKS, putting, putting - this stuff - in my ears to help me hear better! You are all FREAKS! I will have nothing to do with you and your kind!**"

In the sitting area, a few feet away, a small girl started to cry into her mother's bosom. A big man stood up.

"Who are you calling a freak, you bastard!" he called in anger.

"I- he-" started Vernon, but he was to late. With a great swing that would have made Dudley proud, the man beat Uncle Vernon in the face and sent him flying to the wall. He hit the wall and slid down to the floor, where he landed on his arm. A crunching sound was heard.

"Jerry!" said the woman with the girl in her arms, "you shouldn't have-"

"I shouldn't, shouldn't I?" the man, Jerry, said. "Look what he did to Jessica. What is he thinking, going into a hearing disability expert doctor's clinic and starting calling the hearing-disabled freaks! Bastard had it coming!"

"I wholly agree," said a woman nearby, getting up to her feet, "but I think the mad needs medical attention." She called the doctor to take a look at him. "I'd better call for an ambulance," she said.

**Royal Surrey Country Hospital, Surry Country**

Uncle Vernon lost a tooth, in a less painful way then Dudley did around the same time, and only had some minor bruises on his jaw to show for it. His arm, on the other hand, was broken, and put in a cast.

"You know, Uncle Vernon," Harry suggested, "I can still get you to the healers, they'll fix your arm in no time. Why, my school nurse once regrew all the bones in my arm in one night, from scratch!"

"**I will not have any CRACKPOTS looking at my arm trying to heal me!**" Shouted Uncle Vernon. "**I will not have any freaks anywhere near me!**"

Vernon then decided trying to take a swig at his nephew with his cast arm. An orderly stopped him and held him at bay.

"You can't do that to your arm, mister. And you can't hit children! Or anyone else!" the orderly said.

But Vernon wasn't having any of it. He always had temper problems, control problems, and Harry problems, and he was in no mood to be interrupted. So he took a swig at the orderly. Struggling to keep the violent Vernon at bay, the orderly called a nurse who summoned Security. Vernon waived his arm wildly, poised to strike, and somehow managed to pull an I.V. pole and drop it on his head. That gave him pause and he slipped a little, pulling the pole with him, hitting himself in the face, falling down and hitting his sensitive jaw on the ground.

Security arrived and they restrained Vernon, and were discussing with the doctors an assault lawsuit while waiting for the police to arrive. The medical staff took care of Uncle Vernon and soon he had his jaw in a cast as well. A social worker questioned Harry about his home life with his uncle, but he tried to keep his answers short, preferably either a "yes" or a "no", and not provide her with much ammunition to annoy his relatives with and make his life even more miserable, but she didn't seemed convinced much.

When the social worker was done with him and left to discuss some thing or another with the security personnel, Harry approached his uncle with caution.

"You know, Uncle Vernon, you really should consider this! Let me call some friends, and you'll be up and about in no time! They'll even erase the memories from all those muggles! In fact, they'll even erase the memories of all this from you! That would be a good idea, I think. Won't you prefer not to remember all your embarrassing and admonish able behaviour today?"

Vernon's face was the dictionary definition of puce now. He tried to shout, to cry murder at his freak of a nephew, but his jaw was set in plaster. Didn't help his blood pressure, though. Next thing he new, a blood vessel erupted, and Vernon Dursley was violently shaking with in his restrains. Harry didn't pay him much heed, at first. He has seen him struggle against his restraints before. But eventually he figured something was wrong with his uncle, and summoned the doctors.

Vernon Dursley suffered from a heart attack. His nephew, Harry, saved his life, getting medical attention just in time to help him.

For some reason, Vernon didn't see it like that. He wasn't grateful. No, he wasn't grateful at all.

**The End!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Here's a treat for you:

I didn't know the English name for an eggplant, so I searched my house for a dictionary, and came up empty. So I Googled it, and came up with an eggplant…Then _missapprehension1_ read this story and wrote back to inform me British people call it aubergine, so I corrected it in the story. Thanks, _missapprehension1_!

Then I decided to see if there are other words for "Purple". I checked Roget's New Millennium™ Thesaurus. Which is a great tool, even if I prefer my old paper-copy of a thesaurus. (trouble is, I can't find it…)

Anyway, "**Purple**", which is a noun, is defined as blue and red, and as such can be called "bluish red". Now that is a great leap of imagination, isn't it? The only thing that tops it, is "reddish blue"! Who came up with _that_? We should give him a medal! Anyway, there are some better words on the list.

**Amethyst** (some kind of a precious gem, isn't it?), **heliotrope** (No idea what that is. Sounds like some creature our of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them"…), **lavender** (Hurray to Lavender! She is such a babe, and after the way Ron treated her in HBP, she now has the airs of a victim. Don't you just want to go over and comfort her? Even if she's purple? BTW, purple is also slang for : erotic, sexy, breathtaking, arousing, amorous, sensual and sensational, sensuous, sultry and even suggestive…), **lilac** (I have a friend called Lilac and she strongly objects to being associated with one Vernon Dursley.), **magenta** (My laser colour printer has 3 colour tuners, one of which is dubbed "magenta" and has nothing to do with purple - unless you mix in the blue. Magenta is practically red!), **mauve** (Isn't that the one from "Sweet baby Mauve"? and some fairy tales about… fairies? I'm not sure, I don't really know what or who baby Mauve is, so feel free to enlighten me - in a nice review, of course.), **mulberry** (That's a friend of Tom Bombadilo, from the Lord of the Rings, isn't it?), **orchid** (Nice word. Sounds like orchard, urchin, urging, but I don't think I ever heard it in a sentence.) , **perse** (It appears one Weasley at least took after Vernon Dursley), **plum** (I read a Japanese haiku about geishas and plums. But I try to keep the rating here as teens, so I'll skip.), **pomegranate **(whoever wrote the thesaurus probably never saw a pomegranate if he thinks it's synonymous with purple and plum. I had several pomegranate trees near my dorms at school and I can tell you, it is a pinkish red, nowhere near purple.), **violaceous** (is that a word? My spell check doesn't even recognize it), **violet **(the mark of Napoleon. I wonder if he chose it because purple was the colour of Roman emperors? (until the church forbidden anyone from making it, hoping to tax it, as it was a very profitable industry, only the Phoenicians refused to give up their secrets to the Roman catholic church, and just stopped making purple. Thus, a great secret was lost and a great mystery born. I read an article about some 17th century English scientist at king Charles I's court that tried to rediscover it, but unfortunately for him, the king was beheaded and his founds were cut.) Or was he just a softie at heart?) and finaly, **wine** (the kind I like).

But that's not all. Turns out **purple** is also synonymous with: **Livid** (which explains Uncle Vernon), **broad** and **vulgar** (goes a long way to explain Dursley as well. Also read: coarse, indecent, indelicate, low-minded and unrefined ),** flamboyant **(I always thought the Malfoys must be somehow related to the Dursleys. Maybe the Dursleys are descended from disowned Malfoy squibs?) **flowery** (ornate), **grandiloquent** (pretentious) and **grandiose** (theatrical) (Which explains the accident of nature that is Petunia Dursley, the egotistical extravagant.),

Also, **purple** is slang for: **Lurid** (No other way to describe the Dursley family. Well, no, there are many ways to describe them, but lurid is one of those), **off-colour **(most of what they say), and **pornographic** (Dudley's pastime).

Amazing, how one word describes those people on so many levels, isn't it?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Now, all that's left is to see what the thesaurus has to say about Gilderoy Lockhart - Mr. Pink. (An Omake I wrote. Think I'll post it here at the end of Steal a Candy 2.)

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**A/N**:

Well, that's it. Next is coming a sequel to "_Steal a Candy: Ragnarok_" which will be called "Steal a Candy 2: _Yeah, Baby_!". I finished writing most of it already, I'm just missing yet another one of these damn summoning rituals (I'm planning on further sequels, so I'll be whining about those for a while, it seems,) and some lemon to write. So I'm gonna watch Austin Powers 2 after I'm done posting this chapter. Then it is either "SHZG 2: Spinner's End" (about time), the next part of this one (Dudley's worst day) or, finally, a new chapter in Tommy's Harem that has been long in the making, only I'm too lazy to do that last bit of research I need for it.

So stay tuned, and enjoy, there is cake in the fridge.

stealacandy


	8. How Hogwarts Fell

**How Hogwarts Fell**: A Plot Bunny

By **stealacandy**

**Disclaimer**: When you sack a school staff-member for trying to do bodily harm to the students, better have the police escort him out.

Oh, and before the police comes to escort _me_ out, Argus Filch, Rubeus Hagrid, Dolores Umbridge and Severus Snape all belong to Miss J. K. Rowling, whatever she does with them, as are the rest of the cast, crew and characters from the Harry Potter novels, movie series, merchandize, memorabilia and McDonald's children-meal surprises. Well, some of it belongs to Bloomsburry, Scholastic and Warned Bros., but that's just minute details. The important things I own nothing, not even a measly house-elf, and I don't get dividends from my writing, so there. I'm so poor, I'm probably going to wear Dobby's tea-towel soon. So no police for me.

**111111111111111111111111111111**

**How Hogwarts Fell**

"I am sorry Argus." said Minerva, sighing. "Albus may have kept you out of pity, but I can no longer keep you on board. Albus may had the calibre and the clout to disregard letters from angry parents, but I am nothing near Albus. And after we had Dolores torturing kids, and Severus killing the headmaster, we can no longer afford to hire and keep staff members who hate the students. And you are ever so eager to get the children in trouble and put them in situation where they'd either be very miserable or in great danger. The board did not forget how you were in tears when Dolores gave you permission to torture the kids. There is nothing I can do, Argus, you are out of Hogwarts."

"But - but - I - but - " stammered the squib, but the new headmistress cut him off.

Prof. McGonagall sighed. "Again, Argus, I am very sorry, but this is out of my hands now. Consider this your two-weeks notice. Good-bye, Mr. Filch." she said, sternly.

The old man turned around, defeated. As he left the office, he could be heard muttering "Damn those wizards, I will show them all. They would miss Argus Filch!" under his breath. Unfortunately, there was no one to here him but a pair of mosquitoes, and they were more interested in the cat frolicking around the office. Professor McGonagall herself was elsewhere occupied as well. "Meow." she said. Which translates roughly as: "Oooh! Catnip!"

**222222222222222222222222222222**

Argus Filch snuck into the House-elves' quarters. "Dobby, Dobby," he muttered to himself. "Which one is Dobby's?" He went by the rooms, sticking his head inside, seeing one neat room after another. Then, finally: "Dobby!" he cried. He had just found an anomaly. The room was a mess, with a couple of posters of the Chudley Cannons, quite a few poster-size wizarding photos of that Potter brat, a lot of miss-matching socks, and piles upon piles of house-elf-sized baby-hats. "Eureka!" exclaimed Filch, and hurried to collect the hats.

That evening, the elves in the kitchen encountered a strange vision. Winky, the disgraced elf, was in her usual spot, getting drunk on Butterbeer. Yet Dobby, her constant companion, instead of trying to help her or get her to stop, was sitting on the floor right beside her, getting drunk himself, twice as fast. When the elves finally managed to get him to speak, all they got out of him was "someone stole all my cloths!".

The mention of Dobby's elf-cloths sent a collective shiver into the house-elves' backs, and in an unspoken mutual decision, they all left him be.

**333333333333333333333333333333**

The following morning, a notice was pinned inside the kitchen door. "All house-elves bonded to the school to report to the caretaker's office at 10:00 AM. Elves are to wait outside, will be called inside in order.

A couple of elves saw it, read it, and frowned. Such a thing was never done in Hogwarts (a) history before. It would be very disruptive to the work they had to do, and things wouldn't be done on time. But, as it was the summer holidays, and with the students all gone, as well as most of the staff, there was not much to do, they chucked it to the quirks of the humans, and went to spread the word.

**444444444444444444444444444444**

The house elves all crowded in front of the caretaker's office. Then, the clock hit ten in the morning. "Chim," it rand. "Chim, chim, chim, chim, chim, chim, chim, bang, BONG!"

The door to the office opened. Out came Argus Filch. "You!" he yelled, pointing at a now trembling elf. "My office, now!", turned around and walked back in. The elf soon followed. he didn't go back out. Filch did, and called another elf. That set the pace for the rest of the morning. Filch would call an elf inside, and the elf would be gone. Then another, and another, and another - until all of Hogwarts' elves went through the looming office door.

When he was done dismissing the elves and sending them to wallow in misery in the kitchen, when all the elves were gone, Argus filch sat down by his desk one last time, to wallow in his own misery. He poured himself a double glass of one hundred years old Ogden's Best Firewhisky he nicked from Professor Snape's office. He knew the man blamed Harry Potter for that loss. 'Serves him well, the brat.' thought the bitter old squib. 'No one would fire the 'Boy-Who-Lived', would they?' Another glass soon followed, then another, and before long, Argus Filch downed the entire bottle. Then he went on to a bottle of muggle scotch, only sixteen years old, but surprisingly, it was much better. Not that Filch knew or cared. His taste-buds were beyond gone, and by the fifth serving, so was he.

**555555555555555555555555555555**

Dobby and Winky returned to the kitchen, exhausted. All morning, there wasn't an elf inside, save themselves, and it fell onto them to do all the work around the castle. Now, all they wanted to do was fall down in exhaustion and catch some sleep, but they knew they still had to prepare lunch for those of the staff who remained in the castle over the holidays.

A strange, and quite disheartening, sight welcomed them into the kitchen. All over there were elves in tears: crying, weeping, wailing, sobbing, blubbing, mopping around, bawling, howling in grief, lamenting their harsh fate. Severus Snape may have left the building, but snivelling now dominated everything. And drinking. It seemed like quite a few of the elves raided Winky's supply of butterbeer.

"What is it?" asked Dobby. "What happ-happened?" hiccupped Winky.

"This." wailed one elf, and pulled a little knitted hat from his pocket.

"You found who stole my hats!" exclaimed Dobby. "That's great! You's no need to cry, the hats won't bite you." The elves only wailed on, even more loudly then before, if that was even possible.

"Found who stole Dobby's hats, did we?" asked another elf, blowing his nose in his pillocase. "Oh yes we did, didn't we? Here!" he said, and pressed a hat into Dobby's hands. "Keep it, if you like it so much!" he laughed.

"Fritzi," said one senior elf. "That is no way to treat your cloths. You's a bad, bad elf!"

"Cloths?" mouthed Dobby in amazement. 'They decided to take cloths after all?'

"A bad elf, I am?" laughed the elf, Fritzi. "Am I? We are all bad, bad, naughty little elflings." his laugher grew strong, mad. "We's all got cloths!"

The elves all started wailing again.

"What?" cried Dobby in surprise.

"Here!" said an elf, and with a trembling hand put an elf-sized knitted baby-hat on his head, pointy ears dangling from its sides. Then, another one followed. And another. And another. Soon, all of the house-elves of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - or rather, the former house-elves of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - had their heads covered in Dobby's old hats.

"You's all stealing my hats?" Dobby asked in bewilderment.

"Steal?" asked Fritzi. "We didn't steal the hats. Blasted hats! Stupid elf like you can keep them, we's wanting nothing to do with hats, or socks, or dresses, or wheezy jumpers, or any cloths at all! We are given hats! We are given them by castle caretaker, Filchy-gus!"

"Filchy-gus stole my hats?" asked Dobby. "You's been given cloths?" asked Winky.

"Yes, Dobby," said an elf. "Filchy-gus said we's been all bad elves and needed to be given cloths, and the only cloths around was you's. You's bad, bad elf, keeping cloths for elves! You's to be blamed for this! If you hadn't been kept all you's hats, Filchy-gus would have hadn't any!"

"Yes!"", "Yes!", "Bad Dobby!", came calls from all around. "Dobby must be punished!"

"But, but-" mumbled Dobby in alarm.

"Bad Dobby!", "Bad, bad Dobby!" came the calls. "Death to Dobby!"

"Listen to yourselves!" bellowed Winky. "You's all bad, wicked naughty elves, being given cloths from Filchy-gus caretaker for being bad elves, and now you blame Dobby? Dobby's do nothing wrong! You were bad, you were freed - just like Winky…" she sobbed, pausing her admonishment. "You are the ones that should be punished." she continued. "Not only you brought disgrace on you's selves and on the castle of Hogwots, now you bring shame on you;s name as house-elves! You's be ashamed of you's. I's ashamed of you's! You's better say sorry and punish you's selves!"

"Winky is right." said an elder elf. "We's all been shamed. We's to be ashamed of us's selves."

"Winky is right!", "Winky is right!", "We's being ashamed!" came the calls all around. "We's to be punished!"

"How are we to be punished, wise Winky?" said the wizened, old elf?

"You's are so naughty, you's should get cloths!" cried the elf. No sooner then she spoke, all the elves started crying again. "That's right!" said Winky angrily. "You's go and cry! You's bad, bad elves!"

"But we's already been getting cloths from Filchy-gus before!" said the old elf in a little voice. "You's saying we need more punishment!"

"Err.. Yes." said Winky. "Dobby, what would be a fitting punishment for bad, bad disgraced elves?" she asked.

"Dobby don't know." Dobby started. The elves howled. "Dobby's old master had Dobby run against with all of Dobby's might and throw himself at the wall, so Dobby would hit his head in the wall and grow a booboo. Is that punishment good enough?" he asked.

"Yes! Great!" said the senior elf. Turning to the rest of the elves, he addressed them. "You's all hearing Dobby, now get to it. I want you's all to be standing in lines against all the walls, and start running into them and banging you's heads butt on!"

**666666666666666666666666666666**

_**Boom!**_

The entire castle shho as the loud rumbling followed a distant loud bang.

_Boom!_

There was a rhythm and consistent timing to the bangs.

Down in the kitchen, if anybody bothered to watch, he would see a female elf in a worn, stained, little sundress barking orders. "You's bad elves! You's shameful! You's naughty! You's failed you's masters! Again!"

Nearly one hundred house elves took five running steps and knocked themselves off their feet against the wall at the same time. That was soon followed by other elves doing the same at the other end of the room.

_Boom!_

The elves slowly got up. They were shaking their heads, and were obviously disoriented.

Winky elf just kept going. "You's no good. You don't deserve such good Masters. No wonder you's are getting cloths! Again! You's should be punished! Again! And Again! And Again!

_Boom!_

_Boom!_

_Boom!_

**777777777777777777777777777777**

The castle walls were shaking. The massive force of dozens, if not hundreds of house elves running head on into the walls was enough to move even such a large and massive stone-work building such as Hogwarts Castle, but the major problem was that the castle was built on two foundations. Physical foundations, and magical ones. The castle had just went though a massive loss of magic, what with nearly all the magical creatures bound to it set loose and severe their ties to it, and with all the students away for the summer, it stood no chance to recuperate any time soon. Its physical foundation were buried deep below ground level. More or less, you could say, on level with the castle's kitchens. And they were now being pounded in full force, so much stronger then anything the medieval muggle siege engines it was constructed to withhold could throw at it. And without the protection of layers of earth and soil protecting the castle's foundations from the outside.

"Meow" said professor McGonagall, which translates as "A gryffin! Run for your lives!". "Woof woof" said Fang, which translates as "Not that damn cerberus Fluffy again.". "Bree-hee-hee" said Firenze, which translates as "A giant! From the forest!" and "hissy hissy" said the snake, and if Harry was there he could translate it for you and tell you it meant "Oh no! A Dragon!", but Harry wasn't there, nor would it matter if he was, anyway. "Xhrrrrrrrrrrr" said Rubeus Hagrid in a great voice in his late morning slumber, over at his hut by the forest, and it doesn't translate at all. Argus Filch, too, snored, but there was no one there to hear him.

**888888888888888888888888888888**

The towers fell first. The North Tower, housing the Divination classroom, as well as the Divination professor residing inside, Sybil Trelawney, were the first to go. Trelawney, who never left her tower unless she really had a dire need, never saw it coming. She soon went crazy in fright as her tower began to visibly vibrate, then shake, and finally even quake. "I'm going to die!" she wailed, trembling along with the walls of her room, quivering in fear. "I'm going to die!" she wailed again, as crystal balls fell from the cabinets and started rolling around in a frenzy. Those that didn't shatter as they hit the floor. Sybil was too frightened to try and read the patterns of the future in the scattered glass shards. "I'm going to die!" she screamed again. "I'm going to die!". The walls began to crack. Then they crumbled. Then they collapsed. For once in her life… err… never mind that, for once, Sybil Trelawney's death prediction was right on.

The rest of Hogwarts Castle's towers soon followed the Divination Tower's example, falling down, falling down like London Bridge in a bad year, and then the rest of the castle followed suit, crumbling in a huge cloud of dust and debris, rubble and ruins.

Except for Sibyl Trelawney, all members of the Hogwarts staff staying in the castle made a safe escape. All were accounted for.

Argus Filch was never seen nor heard again.

Dobby, Winky, Fritzy and the crew became superstars on national T.V., starring the big-time hit show, "Trapped".

**999999999999999999999999999999**

Over in Privet drive, Little-Whining, Surry, a young wizard lifted his head, looked around, and sighed. Then he went back to weeding the back yard.

Over in Little-Hengleton, a large snake hissed in anger. Her master was slumbering, resting peacefully (as much as an all-powerful insane dark lord trying to take over the world can be peaceful) and so no one who could have understood her took any notice.

Lord Voldemort never felt a thing. He didn't wake up, his sleep wasn't so much as disturbed the very least when one of his priceless horcruxi, caught in the wreckage of Hogwarts Castle in Scotland, was crushed beneath tons of rock, stone and dirt, squashed and broken, destroyed beyond repair, its magic and the soul fragment within lost forever.

**000000000000000000000000000000**

**Author's Note:**

This was written in response of some discussion I inadvertently started about how do you go about setting a house-elf free, and who exactly can do it. Because Hermione has no authority in Hogwarts, yet all the elves are afraid to go inside Gryffindor Tower because of the baby-hats she leaves there in order to free them. lucindas43302 ("lucindasiverling" at Yahoo! mail service) suggested (Message #30329 in Caer!Azkaban group, check it in Rorschach's Blot profile, it's his homepage - find a link to him in my Favourite Authors page on my profile, then use the "search" option to jump to the right message,) that maybe it's the job of whoever is responsible for the elves in the household, or in other words, in case of Hogwarts castle, the caretaker, Argus Filch. (Although I wonder, he's not even a wizard. If he can do it, why not have the elves give cloths to each other and set themselves free, start the revolution and everything…)

That gave me the mental vision of Filch setting the elves free. I needed a reason for it, of course. Then it came to me. No, Filch didn't join the Marauders.. No, the Weazley twins didn't confound him to get back at him for banning their products from Hogwarts. No, he did it in his right mind, and for his own reasons, and his own agenda. Why? He did it in revenge! Revenge for being sacked. If Argus Filch is sacked, then the rest of the household and maintenance staff would be sacked too. Like so many employees getting fired and trying to sabotage the computer network, hastily post confidential information or data over the internet, spill coffee on their keyboard or something. Which is why recently you hear they have security escort sacked employees outside the premises and deliver them their personal affects rather them let them collect those on their own.

The bit with the elves attacking the castle is a shameless rip off of nonjon - he's on my Favourite Authors list as well. Neville Longbottom laces all the food in the Start-of-the-Year Feast with marijuana, and the students can't get enough of it, eating like an army of Weazleys, which is why the elves in the kitchen run out of food, and decide to punish themselves by running, head-on, into the castle's foundations. I don't remember which particular story it is from, but it's one of the "Where on Earth is Harry Potter?" series. Check it out. The difference is, there Harry Potter comes to the rescue, buying junk food and snacks to feed all the hungry wizards in the great hall. Here, in this story and in this time, Post-HBP Harry is miles away, stuck in Vernon Dursley Penitentiary Centre for Overly Heroic Wusses, and would be grateful to munch on a handful of marijuana or any other substance for that matter, and Hogwarts Castle is left to fend for itself, no super-hero to help it in its plight.

Well, this is a Harry Potter story, we all know those - everyone is extremely incompetent, and only Harry is capable to save the day. Tough luck to Hogwarts then, I'll say.

[Update: Okay, it comes from chapter 9 of nonjon's "The Untitled Cheekquel Project". The part circumscribed between the sixes and sevens I more or less copied from there, with nonjon's permission, with slight changes on my part to fit this story, and has nothing to do with Argentina.

I _think_ the Divination classroom is on the North Tower, but I _may_ have mixed it with the Astronomy Tower. If anyone knows for sure, please let me know (again, leave a review, I love those…) and I'll correct it.

**The Sequel:**

About the horcruxi (I'm not sure how to say "horcrux" in the plural - "horcruxi"? "horcruxes"? "horcruxia"? or just leave it as "horcrux", like fish and sheeps, England's national food… so I went with horcruxi. If Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows spelled It another way, please let me know.), that was me leaving the story open for a sequel.

I figured at first two horcruxi would be lost - the sorting hat, and Godric Gryffindor's sword, both in the headmistress's office. Then I remembered there's that diadem or wand from the Deathly Hallows - I'm not clear about that, I didn't read the book - is the last missing horcrux Rawena Ravenclaw's diadem (incidentally, does the diadem have anything to do with Molly Weazley's aunt tiara?) or Godric Gryffindor's wand? I recon, if there are seven horrific, they would be: 1. Diary. 2. Ring. 3. Locket. 4. Either Diadem or wand, but it can't be both! 5. Harry. 6. Nagini and 7. Voldemort. And what about Gryffindor's sword? I understand there was a lot hassle about that, too. Was it a horcrux in the end, or not? Then I remembered there's Helga Hufflepuff's cup to be accounted for as well. So I really became confused.

Anyway, even with only one of the two (diadem or wand) and removing Harry from the list (as this is a Post-HBP story, not obliged in anything to the DH, and I'm quite sure I read at one point or another that JKR said Harry is not a horcrux. Then again, she also said the sorting hat isn't one either.), I still had two too many horrific… err… horcruxi (damn that auto-correct thing!) on it. (Diary, ring, locket, cup, snake, hat, sword, diadem _or_ wand, and Lord Voldi himself.) I started thinking about which ones to remove. Obviously the diary, ring and locket were all accounted for, as is Lord Voldemort himself, so that left Hufflepuff's cup, which we know from HBP Voldemort made a big deal of, so that one had to stay as well, Nagini the snake which I needed in the story for her fifteen seconds of glory, and something of Ravenclaw (diadem) or Gryffindor (wizard's hat, sword or wand). I thought of just giving up on the number seven and having Voldemort having ten horrific instead, that's a very important number too, you know, but JKR did make a great deal about them only being seven in all, so I said "The heck with it all, let's just leave it at one horcrux only in Hogwarts, thus getting destroyed in the wreck, not clarify which, and let the readers take their pick." So please, do that. if you have any thoughts on the matter, don't hesitate to share them. In a review, of course, needless to say.

I did so hope to spare Harry and his friend some work in their hunt for the missing pieces, killing off two (three, or even four) birds with one (or rather, several tons of-) stone, but alas, it was not to be. Now if I ever continue this (even though the focus would be on the house-elves, this story still takes place in the Harry Potter world and has to fit the environment) I'll have to find a way to account for them all.

Perhaps Dobby decides to go into fashion design and tailor a suit for the great Harry Potter from snake skin, or a purse for his Ginny Wheezy (Harmonians, please don't kill me, but this _is_ a Post-HBP fic after all, and it'd be to complicated to get the two of them together. Then again, what with S.P.E.W. and everything, this might just be the catalyst for a relationship between Harry and Hermione. It is also just as likely to drive a wedge between them. The elves would turn to Winky for advice about the future, who in turn would ask Dobby what to do, and he would tell them everything about the great wizard Harry Potter who helped him and would probably be able to solve all their problems, and so they all would call on Harry and pest him until he'd take them all as his own just to shut them up. That, of course, would drive Hermione homicidal…), and hunt Nagini down for her skin.

Or he could try to court Winky and give her the diadem as a gift, only to offend her and get her all hot and bothered at being so insulted, giving her even more cloths, until she'd stump on it with her feet, jump on it in anger to accentuate her point and convey her opinion of the gift, up and down, up and down like in some cartoon or another, and smash it to tiny pieces.

Or I can have one of the elves pick up the wand, wondering what it is doing in such a strange place, wherever it is, only to have ministry Aurors apparate in, confiscate the wand for an elf is prohibited from wielding one, and threatening the elf with cloths, upon which point it would summarily inform them he already had some, so, to insult it and show their contempt for his kind, one of the wizards would snap the wand. (And instantly be possessed by the spirit of the younger Dark Lord, attack his colleagues, a few of whom would die, the rest of whom would fight back and kill the culprit, the elf long forgotten [and long gone.)

Or just put Kreacher and some other elf in that comic situation where both pull at the locket saying things like "mine!", "No, mine!" and "Havast you, you mangy cur!" until it snaps and breaks.

Or do the Star-Wars thing and have Kreacher inform Dobby he's his father. Dobby would deny it, saying "master elf Kenoby told Dobby you's killed my father!" and they would start a sword fight - Kreacher with his favourite fire-poker (or perhaps the troll-leg by the front door?) and Dobby with a sword that falls out of his annoying, talking, new hat (which he saved from the ruins of his old home in Hogwarts Castle), and surprisingly, the sword would break? Then Doby could turn Kreacher back to the light side when Bellatrix Lastrange tries to torture Dobby when he won't spy on Harry for her. So Kreacher would tell Dobby, before he dies (one of those mutual things where he and Bellatrix take each other down), how to remove Sirius's mother's portrait from its position on the wall, and Dobby would send it to Harry over at the Dursleys (as it now belongs to him, after all), where he'd stick it right back in the kitchen, where it would drive them all insane until they try to brain him, only succeeding in ridding Harry of the horcrux stuck in his forehead, and earning themselves a lengthy term in jail, now that Dumbledore isn't there to oblivate the authorities of any recollections of their misdeeds regarding Harry (or anything else). Oh, and in honour of his father's profoundest wish, Dobby removes his head and sticks it on a wall in No. 12, Grimauld Place. Then, on a second thought, he removes Bellatrix's head as well, and mails it to Neville. Only his gran gets it instead, and in shock, drops the cup she was drinking from, which she was quite fond of, it being a souvenir of her son and daughter-in-law, in whose house she have found it, in a prominent place. She always reckoned Frank must have commissioned the cup, with the badgers adorning it, in honour of Alice, who was in Hufflepuff house in Hogwarts. (Or was she?). Augusta would of course be devastated when it would fall straight into the magically enhanced garbage dispenser (she knew she shouldn't have listened to Algei, what with his newfound facination with muggle electity, which he got since he hooked up with Sparky Weasley's young son, Archie or whatshisname.) and get shredded to bits. The damn contraption would go in the morning, she decided. Until then, (not that she realized it,) she had a possessed, evil garbage shredder. By Sunrise, all of Neville's collection of candy wrappers he got from his mom. Lord high-volt-ti-shnort would laugh evilly at causing the young good-natured, kind-hearted pain and distress, all the way until it's blades got stuck to each other with melted toffee. The evil shreddermort would go into overdrive to try to overcome that, but all it's circuits would burn, and take the soul-drain within down the shredder. Err.. I mean the soul-shred down the drain. Then it could spend the afterlife in the world of dreams, where Shreddy Kruger reigns supreme.

And that dealt, I believe, with every last one of the horcruxi or possible horcruxi (1. Diary. 2. Ring. 3. Locket. 4. Cup. 5. Diadem. 6. Sword. 7. Wand. 8. Hat. 9. Nagini . 10. Harry.), in one way or another, at least once. Now all I've got to do is write it down.

Oh, wait, there's still Voldemort, isn't there? Well, let's see. The elves, out of jobs, are trying to make a living. They open a chocolate factory, called "Oompa-Loompa Magical Candy and Sweets." Dobby is lead developer. They send samples of their products to everyone in the wizarding world, but seeing as Dobby has some… unique, shell we say? tastes, nobody likes them. Except the goblins at Gringots, who get hooked, werewolves, who find it to affect them similarly to the Wolfsbane potion, but in a hundredth of the price, even though the taste is just as vile, and, for some reason, Voldemort just loves it. But he never learned restrains, the Dark Lord. So he gobbles and gobbles and gobbles the candy, until his teeth fall rotten, he's weighs over five hundred pounds, looks like Dudley Dursley, and accidentally gets hit and trampled by a horde of hippogriffs. Or the Knight-Bus. Or something.

There you go, all the horcruxi are dealt with, and everyone lives happily ever after, except for Lord Voldemort, who died miserably, fat, lonely, and with rotten teeth.

Well, this little bunny has a lot of potential to it, the only thing missing is time. I really don't have it! Not at all!

stealacandy, (part of the Rotfang conspiracy since 1992.)


End file.
